


Collège de Rock

by Vorrir



Series: Collège de Rock Collection [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Be gentle, F/M, First work - Freeform, Temporary death in chapter 8, implied julerose, really just a school of rock au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 20:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 40,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8504293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vorrir/pseuds/Vorrir
Summary: Sometimes the best things in life can come in the most unexpected of ways. Could that hold up when a beloved teacher breaks her leg through a stroke of bad luck?





	1. Two Dreamers and a Sub

Marinette woke with a start, her alarm blaring beside her. Groaning, she decided she did, in fact, need to wake up, and face the outside world. With a rushed breakfast, a quick hug from her parents, and a nearly forgotten bag of books, Marinette stumbled into her first class, ready for the reprimanding of a lifetime.

Tripping over both her words and the frame of the door, Marinette began her prepared excuse, saying, “Sorry I’m late, a, uh, dog ate my… shoe.”

Slapping her hand to her face to hide her shame, Marinette steeled herself for the inevitable scolding she rightly deserved for such a flimsy excuse. The truth of the matter was, Hawkmoth had created an Akuma at two in the morning that last night, which had taken the combined efforts of Ladybug and Chat Noir three hours to defeat. The fact she was currently lucid was a testament to the wonders of caffeine.

However, instead of the derisive sigh of an instructor, the only response she heard was the hardly stifled laughter of a certain blonde. Surprisingly, Marinette would have preferred the teacher. Looking up, she was shocked to see an empty desk in front of the chalkboard, her classmates in a strange state of disorder around their chairs. Most had turned to the door thanks to Marinette’s blunder, but they were quickly recovering their previous conversations. Slipping through her sleep-deprived mind, Marinette noted that Adrien was sleeping on his desk, using his folded arms as a pillow.

Chloe broke the silence, almost spitting out the words, “And what time do you call this, Marinette? What is this, the fifth week in a row you’ve been late? I must say, that’s a record, even for you.” Chloe punctuated her last words with a condescending laugh, Sabrina rushing to join her.

Moving to her seat, Marinette slung her bag rather unceremoniously onto her shared desk, Alya giving her a concerned look. Closing her eyes, Marinette slid into her seat, laying her head against the back support. She jumped back, however, arms flailing, when Alya placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Her brow scrunched together, Alya asked, “Are you okay, girl? You look about as tired as Adrien down there, and he’s actively asleep. Something keep you up last night?”

Trying to calm herself down, Marinette screwed her eyes shut, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she grumbled, “You could say that.”

Unsatisfied with her response, Alya cocked an eyebrow, gesturing her to continue. Sighing, Marinette tried to string together a better excuse, but was interrupted by the door suddenly opening. Headmaster Damocles stepped through, clearing his throat. Suddenly, all conversation ceased, every student finding their way to their assigned seat.

Standing in front, Damocles said, “I am certain you all are wondering what happened to Miss Bustier this morning. I regret to inform you that she broke her leg through a stroke of bad luck. It’s nothing too serious, and her doctors report she will be fit to work again in a few months. For the time being, however, we have hired a substitute teacher, a Mr. Jacques Duval.”

At that, Damocles motioned to the door, a portly man walking in, hands clasped behind his back. He wore slacks and an untucked button down shirt, covered by a jacket that appeared at least one size too large. Completed with a mismatched bowtie and slicked back hair, it might have been comical, were it not for the weight of the news.

That is, for most. Chloe laughed with a light scoff, saying, “Surely, you don’t expect me to be taught by him. He doesn’t even have the sense to get here on time. Or dress himself, for that matter.” She then crossed her arms, looking away from Mr. Duval, ardently expecting her words to be taken as law.

Damocles sighed, saying, “Yes, Miss Bourgeois, Mr. Duval will be teaching you. He comes highly recommended, and he was not here on time because we had to hire him first thing this morning. Now, I leave you in the capable hands of Mr. Duval.” The two of them inclining their heads to each other, Damocles exited the room, Mr. Duval closing the door behind him.

Sparing a few seconds to watch Damocles through the door’s window, Mr. Duval finally sighed, his posture falling, before asking, “Okay, who’s got food?”

Taken by surprise, the class fell silent. Even Chloe was at a loss for words as Mr. Duval walked up to the desk, leaning on its side.

Rolling his eyes, he asked again, “Seriously, who’s got food? You won’t get in trouble, I’m just really hungry.”

Blushing slightly, Ivan slowly raised his hand, flinching when Mr. Duval snapped his fingers and pointed at him.

“You,” Mr. Duval said, “Whatcha got?”

Walking up the center aisle, he held an expectant hand out, inclining his fingers repeatedly until Ivan offered him a half-eaten sandwich covered in plastic wrap.

“Ah, perfect,” Mr. Duval said as he grabbed the sandwich, unwrapping it and beginning to eat as he made his way back to his seat. Sighing contentedly, he practically fell onto his chair, kicking his feet onto the desk in front of him.

After a moment of shocked silence, Chloe cleared her throat before asking, “Um, what do you think you’re doing?”

Mr. Duval winced at the noise, covering one of his ears with his free hand, before tersely saying, “Eating.”

Chloe’s mouth was agape, and she seemed at a loss for words.

Taking the opportunity, Marinette asked as gently as she could, “Sir, are you alright?”

Groaning, Mr. Duval finished his sandwich before saying, “Alright, I’m gonna be honest with you kids, I’m hungover. Anyone here know what that means?”

Kim piped up from the back, “It means you’re drunk.”

Mr. Duval pointed a finger at him before correcting, “Wrong, it means I was drunk yesterday.”

Chloe scoffed, saying, “You’re an alcoholic.”

Mr. Duval pursed his lips, clicking his tongue before saying, “Words hurt, you know.”

“You wouldn’t come to work hungover unless you were an alcoholic,” Chloe continued, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Currently?” Mr. Duval asked. He stroked his chin before saying, “Well, I don’t have any coffee, it feels like a jackhammer had its way with my skull, and I’ve got this weird crick in my back that won’t let up.” Chuckling slightly, Mr. Duval dropped his feet, choosing instead to prop his chin in his hand before asking, “Alright, who can tell me where Miss… Bustier, was it? Where did she leave off?”

Chloe straightened in her seat, largely to look down her nose at Mr. Duval, before she said, “Well, we had just started parentheses, and were planning on having a quiz today, followed by – “

Mr. Duval waved his hand, interrupting Chloe as he said, “Nope, boring, not gonna.”

Chloe was shocked, to say the least, scoffing before asking, “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me,” Mr. Duval said, “not gonna happen. How about this, do you guys know where you are in the reading?” Noting the nods from the class, he continued, “Good, do that. I’m gonna try and nurse this headache, and would appreciate some quiet for that.” Ignoring the incredulous look on Chloe’s face, he tipped his chair back, resting against the wall. Reaching for his copy of the textbook, he cracked it open, rolling his eyes at the pages of equations shown before setting the book on his face, blocking out the lights.

Looking to Alya, Marinette slowly shrugged before reaching for her textbook. From then on, most every student was focused on reading their text for the remainder of the class. In fact, only three students did not spend their time reading. Chloe, who was busy texting on her phone, no doubt complaining about their substitute, Nathaniel, who was sketching in his notebook, and Adrien, who still slept soundly. Nino had long since given up on trying to rouse his friend, deciding it was a better use of his time to try and balance various lengths of pencils on his friend’s cheek.

When the bell rang for lunch, both Adrien and Mr. Duval woke with a start, nearly falling out of their chairs before correcting themselves. Setting his book on the table, Mr. Duval cleared his throat before saying, “Okay, good job today guys. I will teach you all how to pretend like you’re asleep like that next class. Yep. Definitely what I was doing.”

Collecting their bags, the students milled out of the classroom, curious conversations sparking between them. Questions were asked, such as, “Who is this guy,” “What was that,” and, “Seriously, how did you not wake up? I got a solid stack of five pencils on you at one point.” Marinette followed Alya to their favorite spot for lunch, running low on energy as she sunk to her seat. Groaning, she laid her head on the table, seeking what rest she could. Pulling up beside her, Alya set an energy drink next to Marinette’s head, the sound drawing her friend’s attention. With muttered thanks, Marinette cupped the can in both hands, popping the top before chugging it. Grimacing at the taste, Marinette could already feel the restless energy begin to resonate in her limbs, thankful for what semblance of wakefulness she could get.

Alya asked, “So… Ready to tell me what you were doing last night?”

Marinette coughed in surprise, forgetting she was still under the protection of her worst excuse yet. Clearing her throat, Marinette said, “There’s not much to tell, really. Time just got away from me.”

Avoiding the rest of her probing questions, Marinette ate in moderate peace before their next class started. The rest of the day passed without incident, no one thinking much about their odd first class. For the most part, in fact, Marinette forgot about her strange morning, bolstered by how exhausted she was throughout the day. Climbing up the stairs to her room, Marinette slung her bag onto her desk, Tikki floating up with a yawn. Sharing a comfortable silence, Tikki moved to the corner of the desk, where a plate of cookies sat waiting, courtesy of Tom and Sabine below. Marinette, for her part, sluggishly changed into her pajamas before falling onto her bed, finally succumbing to the sleep that had threatened her all day.


	2. A Plan is Hatched

For three days, this went on. Three days of silent mornings, spent watching their teacher sleep in front of them. Every day, Mr. Jacques Duval taught the bare minimum; just enough to keep Chloe at a decent simmer, but never enough to warrant a call to her father. Phones had openly been used on the second day, but now students were talking in hushed tones, uncertain if it would be wise to wake their teacher.

Before this point, there were two little known facts about Ivan Bruel. First, he could only afford cheap earbuds, pairs which did little to contain the music played. Second, he listened to some of the loudest metal ever performed. It was during a particularly harsh shred of a guitar, nigh on deafening in the quiet classroom, that Chloe finally snapped.

Whirling around to face him, she whispered, “Will you turn off that racket?”

However, even if Ivan heard her, the request fell on deaf ears. If anything, it seemed that Ivan nonchalantly turned his music up. Huffing in indignation, Chloe stormed up the aisle, ripping the earbuds out of Ivan’s ears, holding them gingerly, as if they carried some form of disease.

Sneering, Chloe said, “If you’re going to share your music, at least make it something enjoyable. I mean, who would willingly subject themselves to this, this, noise?” Tossing the earbuds onto Ivan’s desk, Chloe sauntered back to her own seat. All the way, Ivan clenched his fists, staring daggers into her back.

Hoping to avoid an encore of Stoneheart, Marinette turned in her chair, placing a hand on Ivan’s before asking, “Is that Jagged Stone? I love his work.”

Looking her way, Ivan visibly softened, uncoiling his fist. Pausing his music, Ivan said, “Yeah, it really is great, isn’t it? It’s raw, and doesn’t take anything from anyone. He’s a real artist.” As he went on, Ivan began to mutter, the words more for himself than anyone else.

That did not, however, stop Chloe from spinning around, flipping her hair in disgust before saying, “Please, that rhythmless hack wouldn’t know art if it broke his stupid guitar in half.” Folding her arms, Chloe continued, “Musicians like XY is where the artistry is these days. They have the sales, the looks, and the fans. You can’t argue with that.”

“Just because they sell out shows doesn’t make them artists.”

Jumping at the words, Chloe turned around to find their teacher very much awake, and appearing more interested in the class than he had ever been. Standing up, Mr. Duval walked to the front of his desk, leaning back with an air of superiority, as if he were finally hearing a topic he knew more about than his students.

Regaining her composure, Chloe asked, “Oh? And who would you call an artist, if success is suddenly not a factor.”

Mr. Duval chuckled while shaking his head, saying, “See, that’s where you got it wrong, Princess. Success has absolutely nothing to do with artistry. It never has. The only reason ‘Musicians’ like XY get any shows, is because of that misconception. You get flocks of people who think, ‘Oh, this guy managed to fill a quota of seats, he must be fantastic! Let’s throw all our money at him and tell everyone to do the same!’ It’s more a disease than any real artistry.” At that, Chloe moved to speak, but was interrupted yet again, when Mr. Duval continued, “Now, as for who I would call an artist, the criteria are simple. Use music to speak to people. That’s it. And not some meaningless message, either, like ‘Look at me,’ or ‘I’m so great,’ I’m talking about the music that speaks to your soul, right here.” He enunciated this by placing a hand on his chest. “Music that means something. Anyone who can make that, I call an artist.”

The room was split into two emotions. Chloe felt nothing but indignation for this man that had interrupted her yet again, while the rest of the room was just shocked to hear their teacher say more than two sentences at a given time.

Mylene raised her hand, then. With a gesture from Mr. Duval, she asked, “So, what you’re saying is, genres don’t matter when it comes to music? Every song is just as likely to be a piece of art, depending on who listens to it?”

Mr. Duval tapped his chin for a moment, pondering the question, before saying, “Yes, and no. Yes, you’re right, genre doesn’t matter all that much in terms of artistry, but no, not everything has the same likelihood to really speak to people.” At Mylene’s look of confusion, Duval continued, “What I’m saying is, every musician has the potential to be a true artist, but there is a genre that statistically houses more artists than any other. Rock and Roll. The music that defines generations, and defies social expectations. Rockers need to break the mold, to think outside the box, to find a new way of doing things. That speaks to people. That’s how you get voices heard around the world.”

Humming in thought, Mr. Duval didn’t really notice that the entire class was now giving him their entire attention. Or, that Chloe had left in a huff, a young girl following after her. Instead, he suddenly snapped his fingers, saying, “Okay, I was planning on a nap today, but that’s getting pretty boring. Anyone here play an instrument?”

Taken aback by the change in tone, it took a moment for hands to start rising. The class had far more musicians than Mr. Duval was expecting, if his appreciative whistle was to be taken seriously.

Pointing to the boy in front, Mr. Duval asked, “You, Banana Tree, what’s your name and instrument?”

Uncertain what to do, Adrien stood before he said, “My name is Adrien Agreste, and I’ve been studying the piano for upwards of nine years now.” At Mr. Duval’s nod, Adrien sat back down.

“Next, Pig Tails.”

Alix stood up, saying, “Yeah, name’s Alix Kubdel, I play the guitar, and that guy there won’t admit it, but he plays the drums.” Jabbing her thumb above her shoulder, Kim looked positively betrayed at her. Alix then sat back down, smiling rather smugly.

“Good to know. Megadeth, what about you?”

Juleka slowly stood, holding her arm rather sheepishly. She muttered something below her breath, Mr. Duval straining to pick it up.

Rose said, “It’s okay, Juleka, you can do it.”

With that, Juleka took a breath, squared her shoulders, and said, “I play the cello.” She quickly sat back down, avoiding Mr. Duval’s gaze.

He flashed a smile her way regardless, saying, “That’s awesome, Juleka. Don’t let anyone tell you different.” Looking at the class, he scratched his head before saying, “Although, I gotta say, I’m a little surprised. Seriously, Headphones? You don’t play anything?”

Nino cleared his throat before standing, as he said, “Uh, my name’s Nino, and I don’t play an instrument, per se. I dabble with sound boards and loop pedals, and I’ve been able to make some pretty choice beats, if I do say so myself, but I figured you were asking more for guitars and stuff.”

Laughing, Mr. Duval placed a hand on Nino’s shoulder before saying, “Nino, you make music. It doesn’t matter if you don’t use what people call traditional.” Glancing up to Ivan, Mr. Duval continued, asking, “What about you, Mr. Stone? You look more like a rocker to me than anyone else here. Sure you don’t have a trick or two?”

Ivan coughed, a light blush covering his cheeks, before he said, “My name’s Ivan. I pick up my guitar every now and again, and sing sometimes.”

It was then that Mylene took over, Mr. Duval noting the connection there, as she said, “He also writes songs. He can sing them a little harsh sometimes, but they really are rather touching.”

Perking up at that, Mr. Duval motioned for Ivan to come up from his desk, saying, “Harsh, you say? I would like to see this for myself, if you don’t mind.” When Ivan refused to move, his eyes darting throughout the room, Mr. Duval sighed, saying, “It’s okay Ivan, we’re all friends here. You have nothing to fear.”

Getting up, Ivan moved into the aisle, marching his way down as if he were at a funeral. When he stood in front of Mr. Duval, his hands began to shake, and he blushed harder, wanting to retreat into himself. Seeing this, Mylene dashed to Ivan’s side, holding his hand to steady him. Looking down at their conjoined hands, Ivan relaxed, taking a deep breath in. He then began to sing one of his favorite originals, the serenade he wrote for Mylene all those months ago.

Mr. Duval was astounded. Here was a natural screamer, standing before him, like finding a rough diamond in a field of hay. Sure, the kid wasn’t practiced, but who was at his age? Still, there was something about it, something that spoke of a deeper ability.

It was then that he realized that a kid was screaming bloody murder in his class. When he was supposed to be a teacher. It was his understanding that that was rather frowned upon.

Stopping him, Mr. Duval placed his hand on Ivan’s shoulder, saying, “Woah, easy there. Damn son. You’ve got some pipes! Still, best not do that when we’re at school, eh?”

As if on cue, three teachers rushed to open the door, saying variances of, “What’s going on in here?”

Caught rather red handed, Mr. Duval tried to salvage the situation the best he could. Trying to think on his feet, he said, “Oh, well, I just get so passionate about math sometimes that I just, um,” and he decided the best thing to do, would be to imitate Ivan’s screaming. Later, he would make a note that he wasn’t as good at thinking on his feet as he thought.

Yet, surprisingly, it seemed to work, the other teachers sharing rather concerned and perplexed looks before saying, “Alright, just try not to make a habit out of it. We thought something was wrong.”

“Of course, of course,” Mr. Duval said, ushering them all back through the door, saying, “Thank you for checking, but we really are right as rain, okay? Okay. Goodbye.” With that, he shut the door, releasing a relieved sigh as he did. Looking back, Mr. Duval noticed that everyone had returned to their seats, a deep crimson blush across Ivan’s face.

Before he could reassure him, however, Alya asked him, “Sir, are you a real teacher?”

Wide eyed, Mr. Duval attempted to maintain his composure as he said, “Yes, of course I’m a real teacher. I’m teaching here, aren’t I? Do tell, what must one do to be called a real teacher?” 

She didn’t look all that convinced, so Mr. Duval decided to move on. If this girl was what got him fired, so be it. Instead, he addressed a much more pressing matter, when he said, “Hey, Ivan, don’t let that get you down, man. Everyone out there just didn’t expect it, is all.” Despite his best efforts, the crimson on Ivan’s cheeks didn’t let up, as he curled further into a ball in his chair. Seeing such an unrefined talent so self-conscious boiled the blood in Mr. Duval’s veins.

Looking at the clock, Mr. Duval got an idea. Gesturing to the class, he said, “Students here get a class project every year, right?” Spurred by the curious agreements of the class, he continued, “Good, good.” Mr. Duval began writing on the chalkboard, saying, “Friday afternoon, meet me at this address. We will go over the specifics of the project there.”

Rose asked, “Um, what should I tell my parents? I can’t exactly have them drop me off somewhere without any explanation.”

Mr. Duval nodded, saying, “Good point, Tinkerbell. Tell your parents that you are coordinating with your fellow classmates on a project that is a larger scale than our classroom allows. Specifically, it’s gonna be a tad louder than would be appreciated here.”

Alya asked, “And, what exactly is this project?”

Mr. Duval smiled, saying, “Where’s the fun in that? Believe me, it will become apparent as soon as you meet me there. For now, go ahead and get outta here a little early, I’ve got some planning to do. Also, for those of you with an instrument, bring a sample of you playing next class.” 

\---- § ----

“Chloe, wait!” Sabrina said.

Whirling around, Chloe said, “No, I will not stand for this any longer. That boorish man decides to ignore us for three days, and then interrupts me? Oh no, first I call Daddy, then, he brings the wrath of god down on that sad sack of shit.”

Catching her breath, Sabrina said, “Okay, and I agree, you know I do. What I’m saying is, there’s a better way to do this.”

Chloe rolled her eyes before saying, “Please, need I remind you who had five teachers fired in one school year?”

Shaking her head, Sabrina replied, “No, but I’m saying you could make it to where this man is never hired again.”

Squinting at her friend, Chloe said, “I’m intrigued. Tell me your plan, though I doubt it’s any better than mine.”

Beaming, Sabrina explained, “It’s simple really. Record him every day, for a month. Every nap, every midday snack, every second he isn’t on the curriculum. If these three days have been any indication, you should be able to get his teacher’s license revoked with that easily.”

Tapping her chin, Chloe said, “It has promise, I’ll give you that… I’ll give it two weeks. If we haven’t gotten anything especially incriminating by then, I call Daddy.”


	3. Origins

As Friday approached, their morning classes became even weirder, if that was possible. The next time they met, Mr. Duval was rolling in a projector, a wide smile on his face.

Still grinning like a madman, he said, “Good morning class. Who here feels brave?”

Sharing raised eyebrows between themselves, Kim was the first to raise his hand, saying, “I’m up for any challenge. Whatever you ask, I can do it.” Emphasizing his point, Kim began flexing in his seat.

Nodding, Mr. Duval said, “Right, right, Mr. Drummer. What was your name again?”

Still flexing, Kim said, “Lê Chiến Kim, at your service.”

Plugging in the projector at the back of the class, Mr. Duval said, “Okay, Kim, hand me your drumming sample.”

Flinching, Kim dropped his arms, saying, “Oh, uh… Do you need it?”

Mr. Duval nodded, still plugging in the projector, as he asked, “You brought it, right?”

Nodding, Kim slowly brought out a USB from his bag, handing it to Mr. Duval. As he did, the projector roared to life, casting a blank screen onto chalkboard. Mr. Duval then connected his laptop to the projector, in order to show the class Kim’s sample.

Mr. Duval said, “Now class, who thinks they can tell me why I am showing these samples to you all?”

Chloe shrugged before saying, “I don’t know, you’re bored?”

At that, Mr. Duval laughed slightly, before he said, “No, not entirely, but that is a part of it. I am showing these because I want you all to know the strengths of those around you, and to revel in each other’s accomplishments.” After a pause, he added, “And because this class is boring.”

The blank screen in front of them suddenly showed Mr. Duval’s desktop background, the class having to take a second to grasp what they were seeing. It was a picture of Mr. Duval, that much was clear, but what struck them was the look of concentration on his face as he played a guitar. That, or it was the fact that he was playing shirtless in what appeared to be skinny jeans, multicolored spotlights littered behind him.

Chloe cleared her throat, pointing at the projection before asking, “Duval? Is that you?”

Mr. Duval looked her way, face paling when he saw his background on the chalkboard. Stuttering, he said, “Oh, yes, uh… That was from years ago, when I played in a band in college.”

Alya turned around, cocking an eyebrow as she asked, “You have the same haircut as when you were in college?”

Blushing slightly, Mr. Duval coughed, saying, “Yes, I happen to like this haircut, thank you very much.” Quickly opening the file explorer much larger than needed, Mr. Duval found Kim’s USB, opening it to find a littering of files and folders, most containing the word “Sport.”

Kim said, “It’s under ‘Weird Literature Class.’ Do you really need to see it?” At that, Mr. Duval paused, cursor hovering over the mentioned folder.

Looking Kim’s way, Mr. Duval asked, “Would you rather I not? I’m honestly very interested to hear you play. Is that okay?”

Looking down at his desk, Kim seemed to steel himself before giving a tight nod. At that, Mr. Duval opened the folder, showing a single video file. Opening that, the video opened to a shot of Kim’s drum set, the man himself walking into the frame a second later.

Sitting on his bench, Kim cleared his throat before saying, “Uh, hi, name’s Kim. I was told to tape myself while playing, so… Here goes.”

With introductions out of the way, Kim set his focus down on the drums in front of him. He began with a single beat, pulsing steadily. Nodding along, he turned his attention to the sticks in his hands as he played off the cuff, increasing the tempo as he went. Eventually, Kim raised his volume to the point that Mr. Duval turned down the computer, else the other teachers might show up again. Ending in a flourish, Kim stood up from his seat panting, turning off the camera shortly after.

The classroom held a deafening silence afterward. Kim groaned slightly, burying his face in his arms on his desk. His attention was brought up, however, when Mr. Duval began clapping slowly, staring directly at Kim, the others tentatively joining in. Mr. Duval steadily sped up his clapping, the class following suit, until Kim was smiling at the attention. With a friendly clap on his shoulder from Max, Kim rubbed the back of his neck, blushing slightly from his class’ reaction. Even when Mr. Duval stopped clapping, the class kept it up, some even whistling in congratulations.

Standing beside him, Mr. Duval had to holler to be heard above the din when he said, “Alright, alright, let me get my two cents in!” When the class died down, Mr. Duval got down on Kim’s eye level before saying, “Seriously, Kim, that was amazing. You almost got a standing ovation just now, man! And that was spontaneous?” At his nod, Mr. Duval stood, asking, “Okay, who’s next?”

Alix shot her hand up, saying, “I’ll go next.”

Mr. Duval nodded, asking, “Good enthusiasm! Is it on a USB?”

Alix shook her head, saying, “No, I saved you the trouble. It’s up on youtube already. Channel’s name is ‘Skater88.’”

Mr. Duval had already pulled up his browser, typing away for Alix’s presentation. Pulling up her channel, the class saw it was mostly comprised of various skating videos, shot from her helmet. The latest addition, however, was that of her sitting in front of a white sheet, classic guitar in hand. Opening the video, Mr. Duval took the seat beside Nathaniel in the back.

The video began much the way Kim’s did, with her walking into the frame after setting up the computer. Taking up her guitar, Alix spent a solid minute making certain it was perfectly tuned, only looking up when she was satisfied.

Cracking a smile, she said, “This is Saturday Night Shuffle, by Marcel Dadi.”

With that, Alix began picking furiously at the strings of her guitar, echoing notes pouring out of its face. Mr. Duval, for his part, would have been searching the floor for his jaw, but he found he couldn’t look away from the performance. There were cracks here and there, some misplaced fingers and the like, but for what it was, it was astounding. What struck him though, was her light smile, which never faltered the whole time she was playing, even when she noticed her own mistakes. She finished with a mock salute, the video cutting off before she stood up. This time, Mr. Duval wasn’t the first one to clap, this round actually started by Kim.

Rather, it was started and finished by Kim, who kept applauding until Alix said, “Alright, down boy, you’ve made your point.” However, despite how she brushed off the attention, Alix did not bother trying to hide the smile on her face.

Mr. Duval made his way down to Alix’s seat, tapping her shoulder before asking, “Hey, be on the lookout, alright? I dropped my jaw somewhere back there.” Moving on, he asked, “Care to keep the guitarists together, Ivan?”

Still shy, Ivan muttered, “There’s no way I can follow that. I’m not nearly good enough.”

Mr. Duval scoffed at the thought, saying, “It’s not about following up, Ivan. It’s all in good fun, celebrating each other’s accomplishments. Besides, I already know you have a killer voice, that’s already sold you in my book. Sure you don’t have another trick or two up your sleeve?”

Just as it did before, his goading paid off, Ivan sighing before reaching for his feet. What Mr. Duval did not expect, however, was Ivan pulling a guitar out from under his desk. Setting it on his leg, Ivan tuned it for a second before looking Mr. Duval’s way. With a tight nod, Mr. Duval sat down on the edge of Alix’s desk, giving Ivan his full attention. With that, Ivan began to play. It was a rather simple melody, especially in comparison to Alix’s performance, but it was still quite good. Completing his song without pomp or flourish, Ivan kept his head down, honestly surprised when the class applauded him. Looking up, Ivan blushed slightly, setting the guitar back at his feet.

Mr. Duval beamed at the shy boy, throwing his arms open as he said, “See? This is what music is about! Sharing in our successes with no judgement. No comparisons, no expectations, just us and the music. Thank you, Ivan, for that show of courage.” Pointing to the front of the class, Mr. Duval asked, “Mr. Model, you ready to show us your keyboard skills?”

Adrien shrugged, saying, “Yeah, but I didn’t bring a sample. It shouldn’t be too hard to find, though. Just search up, ‘Agreste fundraiser piano performance.’ From what I understand, there were a lot of phones out for that one.”

“No way, you’ve already performed?” Mr. Duval practically ran to his laptop, typing in the search as instructed.

Nino gave Adrien a reassuring bump on the shoulder when the video popped up. It was an amateur recording, as Adrien warned, but the view was still stunning. Those who hadn’t had the privilege to be inside the Agreste mansion probably thought they were looking into some private event center. Although, factoring in the grandeur and lack of foot traffic the Agreste’s living room saw on a monthly basis, they weren’t all that wrong. Without introduction, Adrien began playing a somber melody. It began slow, simple scales back and forth down the piano’s range. It might have lulled the class to sleep, were it not for a dramatic increase in energy. Yet, as soon as it had started, the energy fell back, returning to those scales with seeming ease. Back and forth, the music waned, weaving again and again between high intensity and quiet reflection. Then, with a flourish, the piece was done, and the recording cut off. The silence after the video was daunting, none wishing to break the spell Adrien had just cast over them.

Eventually, Mr. Duval said, “Adrien, would you mind telling the class what song that was?”

Adrien replied, “Oh yeah, that was Beethoven’s Fur Elise.”

Maybe it was just the way he said it. He wasn’t certain what it was, but Mr. Duval found that hilarious. Still laughing, he moved in front of Adrien to clap a hand on his shoulder.

Catching a little breath, he said, “Do you all hear this guy? Almost moves me to tears, and then goes, ‘Oh, yeah that was nothing, it was just Beethoven.’ Dude! That was awesome!”

Collecting himself, he said, “And last, but certainly not least, Juleka, Miss Cello. You ready?” Mr. Duval noted that in order to curl any further into a ball, the poor girl would have to be in the fetal position.

She muttered, “No, that’s okay.”

Rose grabbed her friend’s shoulder, saying, “Oh, please Juleka? I wanted to hear you play again.”

At that, Juleka lightly nodded, tossing a USB onto her desk. Mouthing a thank you to Rose, Mr. Duval grabbed the drive from their desk, plugging it into his laptop. Finding the file shortly thereafter, Mr. Duval opened it without a second thought. It was a rather grainy video, most likely taken from a phone held by a family member, as it began with Juleka already prepared with her cello.

Juleka said, barely loud enough for the phone to capture, “Hi, this is Juleka, and I’m going to be playing the prelude to Bach’s Cello Suite One.”

Rose cheered from the back of the class before the song even began, bouncing up and down on her seat. Respectfully, she grew silent as the bowstring hit the cello’s cords. Just as Adrien’s had, Juleka’s song began slow, lilting between three or four notes. Quickly though, the pace sped up, Juleka moving up and down the instrument’s range again and again. Rising to a crescendo, Juleka’s fingers edged closer to the body of the instrument, breaking back into the song’s main theme. Suddenly, the song slowed within two notes, ending on an ringing tone.

Rose was the first to cheer, jumping up and down in her seat, hanging onto Juleka’s arm as she said, “That was so good, Juleka!”

With that, Rose simply flung herself at the flustered girl, gripping Juleka in a tight hug. For one of the first times Mr. Duval had the pleasure of seeing, Juleka genuinely smiled at her friend. Forgetting the rest of the class, Juleka returned Rose’s hug, each simply appreciating the other.

Figuring that was all the encouragement Juleka needed, Mr. Duval said “Okay, that’s enough for today. Go, have fun, see you all tomorrow. Remember, attendance on the first day of the project is mandatory.”


	4. The Project

Stepping off of the subway, Marinette kept close to Alya, who had the directions to Mr. Duval’s secret project on her phone. Making their way through the winding architecture, the pair found themselves facing a warehouse in the docks, a ways away from any surrounding buildings. Alya was checking to make sure the address was right, when Marinette spotted a familiar blond boy waving them over. Rounding a corner of the building, Marinette noticed a large group of their classmates were already there.

Walking up to join their class, Alya asked, “Seriously, what kind of school project isn’t done in school? I swear, this whole thing smells fishy.”

Marinette laughed, saying, “I think you’re just smelling the fish there.”

When the two were within earshot, Adrien said, “Hey, glad you could make it safely.”

Marinette tried to say, ‘Yes, I am glad we could as well. How was your day, Adrien? Would you like to discuss it over some coffee later?’ What came out was closer to, “Yeah, too you – I mean – We well – Um – Dadrien?” Satisfied she had messed up her words as much as she could, Marinette rubbed her forehead, finally shutting up.

Adrien just raised an eyebrow, asking, “You alright, Marinette?”

Alya came to her rescue, saying, “Oh, she just didn’t sleep well last night. Regardless, what are we all doing outside? Has anyone tried the door?”

Marinette mouthed her thanks at the change in topic, watching as her friend moved up to the grand double doors. The first thing Alya noted was a large note, reading, ‘Wait for my cue.’

At her questioning glance, Nino said, “Hey, don’t look at me, we don’t know any more than you do.”

As if waiting for that specific line, the large doors opened inwards, old hinges squealing in protest. The class jumped back in surprise, Marinette and Adrien making sure the rest were behind them. Staring into the darkness of the warehouse, the last thing either expected to happen would be the long peal of a guitar that was currently washing over them. Immediately remembering their stint with Guitar Villain, the two heroes habitually moved their hands to the pockets containing their Kwami. Yet, they were stopped when large lights along the roof of the warehouse flared to life, revealing none other than Mr. Duval, guitar in hand, standing atop a stage. As the class slowly moved into the warehouse, Mr. Duval was in the process of one of the longest solos any of the students had seen.

Finishing his performance, Mr. Duval set his guitar down, panting as he asked, “So, what do you guys think?” Gesturing to the grand warehouse around them.

Kim whistled, saying, “Well, it sure is big.”

Chloe walked up in front of the class as she said, “Okay, let’s just cut to the chase, why are we here?”

“Well, Chloe,” Mr. Duval said, stepping down from the stage, “Explaining that requires a little context. I’m not going to fool myself, anyone with a decent internet connection and an idea of what I’m like can figure out that I’m not a literature teacher. However, I am still your teacher, and I aim to teach you kids what I know while I can. And what I know is music, something most of you have an untapped talent in.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, asking, “Your point?”

Mr. Duval pulled up a chair, sitting backwards as he said, “My point, Chloe, is that I want to see just how good you kids can be. I know each of you is good in their own venue. I want to see if, when put together, you can make something extraordinary. I want to see if you kids have what it takes to be a band.”

Chloe could only stare at Mr. Duval, her mouth a silent gape. Marinette voiced what they were all thinking when she asked, “What?”

Standing up, Mr. Duval said, “Speaking freely, this is really the only thing I can teach you. If you guys want, we can go back to our silent mornings of watching me sleep, I have surprisingly few problems with that. But, don’t you all remember how fun yesterday was? Celebrating in each other’s talents, embracing what makes you all unique? We could do that, every day, growing better together. On the other hand, any one of you could take what I just told you to Headmaster Damocles, and I would be fired before the day was out. But, I don’t think any of you are going to do that, not even you, Miss Bourgeois.”

Chloe held up her phone, showing that she had the Headmaster on speed dial, as she asked, “And what makes you so sure of that?”

“Because you’re just as curious as I am.” Mr. Duval said, hands in his pockets. Continuing, he said, “Something made you come here, you didn’t need to. Alya, I assume you already knew that I wasn’t a literature teacher?”

Alya chuckled from the back, saying, “Try not even a teacher, Mr. Duval. First night, single google search.”

He smiled at that, saying, “I figured you would be the first to find out. Tell me, though, why didn’t you share this information with your class?”

Shrugging, she said, “At first, the quiet mornings were a nice change of pace. Then, I don’t know. You actually got us to share something we hadn’t with each other. I didn’t know most of us played any music, much less that they were any good. It was nice.”

Mr. Duval said, “In other words, would you say it felt right?”

Thinking for a second, Alya said, “I suppose so, yes.”

Nodding, Mr. Duval said, “See? That’s what I’m talking about. You kids were meant to play together. I am but a single step on the mountain of circumstances that brought you all together.”

Chloe finally snapped from her shock, saying, “Okay, I’ve heard enough. I’m outta here.”

Stomping to the door, Sabrina ran to catch up to her. Grabbing Chloe's arm, the two shared a hushed conversation. The class only picked up one line from Sabrina, as she hissed out, “You said you would give it two weeks!” At that, Chloe slumped, rubbing her forehead. Eventually, she nodded to her friend, Sabrina almost jumping for joy at the sight.

Mr. Duval clapped his hands, grabbing everyone’s attention as he said, “Well, now that most fear of me losing my job is over, I want to give you guys one last chance to back out. If you all decide to go with this, you will all be responsible for covering your own tracks. Keeping this secret means keeping several others, not only from the school board, but your own families. If this comes back to me, that’s it, we’re done. Although, if you choose to back out, it won’t even weigh that heavily on you, I’ll still give you a passing grade for my time here. But you won’t excel, and you will be bored out of your mind in class. Your choice is simple. Do you want to do something with your time, or sit on your thumbs every day?”

Taking a moment to look each of them in the eye, it was Ivan who moved forward first, extending his hand to Mr. Duval. When he grasped it, Ivan looked back and said, “I think we’re all in.”

Beaming, Mr. Duval said, “Fantastic. Now, everyone line up against that wall.”

As the class moved to the wall, they could hear Chloe muttering a chant, again and again. “Two weeks. Two weeks. Two weeks.”


	5. Duets and Drama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I swear, I didn't intend to almost double the word count, it just kept going. And it didn't stop going.

Watching them line up, Mr. Duval moved to an alcove, similar to a walk-in closet. Appearing again, he was dragging a long mirror, hoisted up on wheels like a whiteboard.

Making sure it was parallel to the class’ wall, Mr. Duval asked, “Can everyone see okay?”

Most gave assurances that they could, Chloe too busy fussing with her hair to notice the question.

Mr. Duval nodded, saying, “Good. Now, I want you all to realize something about the view in front of you. When you entered this warehouse, you knew these people as classmates, friends, or even enemies. None of that matters anymore, because you are no longer single units who happen to share a class. Now, you are a band, one of the greatest bonds one can share in this lifetime. You are a family now.” At that, several furtive glances were tossed Chloe’s direction, who had somehow found her way to the exact center of the mirror to see herself better. Noticing this, Mr. Duval said, “Families can disagree, they can argue, and in many cases they should, but any true divide formed here will sink us all. With the disclaimers out of the way, musicians, step forward.” Adrien, Alix, Kim, Ivan, and Nino took a step forward, Juleka favoring to shuffle slightly out of place. Mr. Duval continued, “When I call your name, head on up to the stage, you’ll find your instrument up there. On lead guitar, Alix Kubdel.”

High fiving Kim, Alix strode up to the stage, appraising the guitars there. Inspecting a slick black piece, she slung it over her shoulder, inspecting the weight and length. It was an angular Explorer model, and a glossy finish reflected the hanging lights from above.

“On secondary guitar and killer vocals, Ivan Bruel.”

With a reassuring thumbs up from Mylene, Ivan moved to the stage, gravitating to a rounder guitar than Alix had. It was an SG Special, boasting a natural wood chassis. Ivan sat down on a stool, propping the guitar on his thigh as he began accustoming himself to it.

“Piano Man, you know where to go.”

Adrien grinned at Nino before he left for the stage. To one side, he found a black electric keyboard, already propped up on its stand. Curious, Adrien tapped the keys to see how it compared to the grand piano at his home. He jumped back, however, when he realized the keyboard was already connected to the amplifiers littered across the stage.

“Kim, your presence is requested on the drum set.”

Jumping onto the stage, Kim and Alix shared another high five. Setting himself behind the drum set to the back, he ran a hand over its flame decaled sections.

“Nino, I’m not gonna lie, I wasn’t certain what all you needed. Next time we meet here, bring your equipment with you, if you wouldn’t mind. For now, inspect what I have up there on the stage.”

Shrugging, Nino said, “It’s all cool, Duval.” He then moved up to the stage, rummaging through a box of spare equipment. Finding two or three things he could use, Nino set them on a table in the back, plugging in wires and fiddling with dials.

Juleka, for her part, had simply gotten more and more anxious the less people were standing apart from everyone else. In fact, she was about to step back with Rose, when Mr. Duval said, “Juleka, I’ve got a little something special for you. Follow me, please?”

Supposing she had no real choice, Juleka followed him to the edge of the stage, where a guitar case was propped. Placing the case on the stage, Mr. Duval opened it to reveal the bass he had picked out for Juleka. It was a Jack Casady, bearing similar cavities to her cello. Except, where her cello was an immaculate natural wood, this was a deep black, the only signs of color being a swirl of purple near the base of the body, and wisps of pink at the headstock.

Taking it in hand, Mr. Duval said, “Now, I know you play the cello, but this isn’t all that different, with some bonus mobility. You know how to do staccato notes right?” At the question, Juleka finally tore her wide eyes from the bass, nodding in answer. Smiling, Mr. Duval said, “Okay, this is the exact same concept. Just sideways. And lighter. Here, give it a try.”

With that, Mr. Duval slung the bass over her shoulders. Staring down at the piece, Juleka absentmindedly traced the purple swirl with her finger, whispering, “Thank you.” Without waiting for a response, she sat down on the edge of the stage, strumming a D note over and over.

After a moment, Nathaniel coughed, saying, “Um, what should we do?”

Taken aback, Mr. Duval said, “Huh. Here I thought you were mute. Never fear, it takes far more than some instruments to make a band. Speaking of, who here can sing?”

Rose was the first to shoot her hand up. With a smile and a nod from Ivan, Mylene raised her hand next, bringing it up around shoulder height. Chloe rolled her eyes, raising her hand as well. Staring at her friend, Alya elbowed Marinette in the ribs.

Yelping in surprise, Mr. Duval’s attention was drawn to them, as he asked, “Do you two have something to share?”

Despite Marinette’s protests, Alya proudly said, “Marinette can sing, she just doesn’t like the attention.”

Mr. Duval perked up at this, asking, “Really? Marinette, could you show us please?

Her gaze flitting between Mr. Duval, Adrien, and Chloe, Marinette quickly shook her head.

Humming in thought, Mr. Duval asked, “Would it help if we were alone? No judgement, but I know what it’s like to be self-conscious with my voice.”

Blushing slightly, Marinette decided the best place for her gaze would be the floor as she nodded.

“Okay, we’ll come back to that, don’t worry. Tinkerbell, show me what you got.”

Smiling, Rose began singing Indila’s Love Story, her voice floating throughout the song, like a feather gliding on a breeze. She barely got three lines in before Mr. Duval held his hand up. Confused, Rose stopped singing.

Mr. Duval said, “Girl, where have you been hiding? Wha – Where is this coming from? Wait, I know where. The gods of rock have lost an angel, get up on stage.”

Rose smiled from ear to ear, as she practically skipped to the stage. She took a seat next to Juleka, who had stopped marveling at her bass to watch Rose. Sharing a hug, they began talking in hushed tones about the instrument. Rose especially appreciated the pink accents.

Pointing to Mylene, Mr. Duval said, “Go ahead.”

Looking once more to Ivan, Mylene began to sing. It took a moment, but Mr. Duval recognized the words as Ivan’s song, at least, parts of it. Her voice was deeper than Rose’s, that’s for certain, but it was still rather fine-tuned. Holding up his hand again, Mylene finished the high note before the bridge, trying to gauge his reaction.

Mr. Duval asked, “Did you two work to make that song a duet?” At her nod, he continued, “Okay, you’ve got it. I’m not even certain what ‘It’ is, but you’ve got it. Head on up.”

As Mylene met up with Ivan, Chloe obviously was fed up at being ignored. With a scoff, she said, “I can sing too, you know.”

Nodding to her, Mr. Duval said, “Okay, lay it on me.”

Straightening her back, Chloe began by saying the title of her song, before letting her voice ring. Were it not for the introduction, many would not have been able to figure out she was singing La Vie en Rose, as her singing voice was more of a monotonous screeching.

Quickly, Mr. Duval held his hand up, saying, “Okay, that’s great, we’ll work something out.”

Stifled and indignant, Chloe folded her arms. This left Chloe, Sabrina, Alya, Marinette, Max, and Nathaniel still facing their reflections.

It was then that Nino called from the stage, saying, “Hey Duval, you missed one!”

Adrien hissed out, “Nino, I’ve already got a job.”

Slinging his arm around Adrien’s shoulders, Nino said, “My bro’s dad has been forcing him into singing lessons since he could say, ‘Dada.’ He may not like it much, but it’s left him with the voice of an angel.”

Curious, Mr. Duval asked, “Really? Would you mind showing me something?”

Sighing, Adrien squared his shoulders before taking a deep breath. His performance was an acapella version of Poor Wayfaring Stranger. Beginning low, Adrien closed his eyes to better remember the song, so he didn’t see Mr. Duval begin making his way up to the stage. Suddenly shooting up an octave, Adrien held his pitch in check, something which took him years to finally control. He only stopped singing when Mr. Duval clapped a hand on his shoulder. It was then when he opened his eyes, now acutely aware that every pair of eyes in the building was staring at him. To some degree, Adrien noted that Marinette had a distinctive blush across her cheeks.

“Oh,” he thought, “she must have some connection with the song.”

Mr. Duval looked out to the assembled class as he said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce your lead singer.”

Adrien was shocked, asking, “Wait, what about Ivan? You said he was lead.”

Mr. Duval raised an eyebrow as he said, “No, I specifically said he had killer vocals. A scream like his is more of a garnish for a performance, used to up a good show to a spectacular one. Sorry if that wasn’t clear, Ivan.”

If anything, Ivan seemed relieved that he wasn’t on lead, saying, “No, that’s okay. I would have given up lead to him anyway, had you put me there.”

Rubbing his hands together, Mr. Duval said, “That settles that. Now,” exiting the stage, he addressed the other students again, saying, “what to do with all of you. First things first, are any of you familiar with electronics?” Max nodded at that, so Mr. Duval said, “Good, we can use that. You will be our technician. It’s gonna be your job to make sure our equipment is in top condition, and operate the lightshows and audio effects. Without you, we cannot play. Think you’re up to the task?”

Looking past Mr. Duval’s shoulder, Max shrugged as he said, “It’ll need some work, but it shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Alright, go get started.” When Max left to inspect the sound equipment, Mr. Duval continued, “Now, next we’re gonna need a Media Mogul, someone who can find the best venues, orchestrate our reviews, and get the word out. Alya, I believe you were born for this job.”

Biting her thumb, Alya said, “Hmm… I’ll have to work it around the Ladyblog, but things have been pretty quiet lately… Yeah, that should work.”

“Glad to hear it. As for you, Red, what’s your name?” Mr. Duval said, pointing at Nathaniel.

Coughing, he said, “Nathaniel.”

“Well, Nathaniel, I’ve seen your sketchbook, so I know that’s where your strengths lie. How would you feel about being the band’s artist? Your job would be flyer designs, album covers, makeup jobs, the works. Up for it?”

Looking to his classmates, Nathaniel began anxiously tapping a pen on his leg. He eventually nodded, saying, “In fact, I’ve got some ideas. May I be excused?”

Mr. Duval looked hurt at the question, as he said, “Dude. You’re in a rock band. You don’t have to ask for a measure of privacy.” Nathaniel nodded, taking his sketchbook out of his bag before finding a seat facing the band to start work. Satisfied with that, Mr. Duval moved in front of Marinette as he said, “Well, I don’t know how well you sing yet, but I did see you with an Agreste fashion magazine once. Passion of yours?”

Marinette nodded in response, saying, “I’ve been working on clothes for as long as I can remember.”

Smiling at that, Mr. Duval asked, “Care to spread your wings a bit? We have a band here in desperate need of costumes.” Marinette’s eyes widened, looking at the sheer number onstage. Mr. Duval continued, saying, “Don’t worry, you’d have help. Speaking of which,” he then turned to Chloe and Sabrina as he said, “don’t think I’ve forgotten about you two. You two are going to be our groupies. Your task is simple, just worship the band. Your job is to keep our performers in working condition, be it with water runs, acting as a soundboard for ideas, what have you. Your secondary job will be helping Marinette here with her costumes. However, your first task will be, ‘Naming the Band.’ Without you, we have no band. Work for you?”

Sabrina seemed ecstatic at the idea, glad to help wherever she could. Chloe, on the other hand, did not find that idea appealing in the least. She threw her hands up, storming off to the door. Sabrina began to follow her, but stopped when Mr. Duval placed a hand on her shoulder. Motioning her to wait, he followed Chloe out of the building.

Once they were outside, Chloe whirled around to face him, shouting, “What’s the big idea? First, you interrupt me, then, you don’t let me sing, and now you want me to be a groupie? I won’t stand for this anymore!”

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, Mr. Duval said, “Woah, easy there, it’s okay. Besides, I knew you wouldn’t want to be a groupie. This is all voluntary, so I can’t really stop you from leaving, but I do have a crucial job for you. Truth of the matter is, the band can’t survive without you.”

Still fuming, Chloe stood there for a moment, eventually saying, “Well, spit it out!”

Keeping his hands up, Mr. Duval said, “Everyone in there needs someone to keep order. Someone who knows the ins and outs of other people’s jobs, and makes sure that they’re doing what they’re supposed to. You would be their lifeline, their voice of reason, and their guide if they strayed. You would be their manager, and you would be in charge of the whole thing.”

Chloe began tapping her foot in thought, eventually holding up an accusing finger as she said, “I’m not saying yes. I need to think on this. I’ve had enough for today, so I am going home. I might see you on Monday. Unless I get you fired.”

Shrugging, Mr. Duval said, “Ball’s in your court, Miss Bourgeois.”

With that, Chloe walked away, aiming for the subway to go home. Mr. Duval sighed, reentering the warehouse as he said, “Alright guys, that’s enough for today, head on home. Go ahead and leave the instruments, I’ll get them packed up.” Under his breath, he said, “I hope we can do this again.” 

Alya held her hand up, saying, “Um, I think you’re forgetting something.”

Smacking his forehead, Mr. Duval said, “Oh, right. Marinette, would you follow me please?”

Sighing, Marinette figured she didn’t really have a choice at this point. So, with another glare cast Alya’s way, met only by her distinctive grin, she made her way with Mr. Duval to a secluded room in the warehouse. He then closed the door behind Marinette, cutting off most noise. Motioning to a desk in the sparsely furnished room, Mr. Duval took a seat opposite from Marinette.

After a moment of silence, they both said, “You know, I –“ at the same time. Laughing, Mr. Duval said, “Please, you go first.”

Shrugging, Marinette said, “I was gonna say, Alya really was overestimating me. I’m not that good.”

Pursing his lips, Mr. Duval said, “Mm… Nope.”

Turning her head, Marinette asked, “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, ‘Nope.’” Mr. Duval said, “I would much rather make an opinion for myself about your singing, rather than write you off because you’re self-conscious. So don’t try and weasel your way out of this by disqualifying yourself. Now please, you have the stage.”

Stammering, Marinette tried to form some excuse, but they were shut down by Mr. Duval’s insistent stare. Sighing, Marinette supposed the only way out of this was to give him what he wanted, so she began singing the first song that came to mind. Perhaps it was simply her remembering the chorus, but it seemed appropriate to sing The Lumineers’, Cleopatra. At the first line, Marinette had to stop herself from investigating just what sort of mischief Tikki was creating in her bag. However, it wasn’t long before Mr. Duval stood, holding up a shaky finger up as he walked out of the room.

Not certain how to take that, Marinette turned her attention to Tikki as she asked, “What was all that?”

Blinking at the sudden light, Tikki whispered, “I’m sorry! It’s just, how did you know Cleopatra was a Ladybug?”

It took a moment for her words to sink in, Marinette having to remember that Tikki was a good deal older than her penchant for sweets would indicate.

“WHAT?” Marinette hissed out.

However, that was all she could say on the subject, because Mr. Duval walked back into the room. He was carrying a guitar in one hand, and dragging Adrien with him by the other. Marinette squeaked in surprise, jumpy due to the unexpected news she just heard. If Mr. Duval noticed, he didn’t show it, hell bent as he was to get these two to sing together. Grabbing a chair for Adrien, Mr. Duval sat back down, holding a pick between his middle finger and thumb.

Finally noticing that neither knew what he was thinking, Mr. Duval said, “Okay, I might just be hearing things, but to me, you two would sound perfect together. Think we could give it a try?”

Adrien shrugged before nodding, taking his seat across the desk. Marinette, on the other hand, was having a hard time doing anything but stare at the situation around her, realizing there was no real way out.

Noting her pause, Mr. Duval asked, “You two are acquainted, right? I got the sense you two were friends.”

Adrien laughed, saying, “Well, Marinette’s friends with everyone really.”

“Except for Chloe, anyway,” Marinette thought. However, not trusting her words, Marinette began studying the craftsmanship of the desk in front of her.

Noticing her unease, Mr. Duval said, “Hey, Marinette, if you’re really not comfortable with this, that’s okay. Not everyone’s ready for a duet starting out.”

“The duet isn’t the problem,” Marinette thought, “heaven knows Alya and I sing in our sleepovers. The problem is you’re asking me to sing a duet with Adrien!”

Marinette’s eyes flew open at the deafening silence that enveloped the room. Turns out, Adrien’s mere presence caused a short circuit between her mouth and brain. She knew this well, always tripping on her words around him, but she was rarely with him enough to notice an unfortunate side effect. Namely, her thoughts had a way of spilling out exactly when she didn’t want them to. Mr. Duval was shocked at the outburst, dropping his pick in surprise. What’s worse, Adrien looked stunned, and partially hurt.

Hoping to fix what damage she’d done, Marinette started, “No, wait, I didn’t – “

He cut her off, however, eyes downcast as he said, “No, I get it. It’s okay.”

Mr. Duval said, “It sure as hell is not.”

The pair looked to him, mirroring a questioning glance.

Mr. Duval continued, “Look, I don’t know what you two have going on, but all I just saw was a healthy dose of miscommunication, mixed with a dollop of shame. That is a brew that I will not stand for in my band, and one that can only create scenarios fit for a soap opera. Adrien, don’t interrupt your designer, especially when she’s apologizing.” Looking to Marinette, Mr. Duval asked, “You were saying?”

Marinette took a steadying breath, rallying what strength she had, before she turned to face Adrien beside her, saying, “I’m sorry. Th-that came out wrong.” Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, she continued, “This whole situation just came out of nowhere, and I didn’t know how to react. I got nervous, is all.”

Nodding, Mr. Duval asked, “Could you condense that into one word? Just to solidify your point.”

Racking her brain, Marinette tried to think of anything other than, ‘Love,’ eventually settling on, “Scared?”

Adrien looked honestly confused by that, so Mr. Duval knowingly asked, “You were scared of embarrassing yourself in front of Adrien, weren’t you?”

Marinette nodded at the half truth.

Adrien gave a light chuckle at that, asking, “Really? If anything, I should be scared of embarrassing myself in front of you.” At her raised eyebrow, Adrien said, “I mean, Class President by day, fashion designer by night? All while juggling being an all-around good friend with everyone who happens to pass you on the street?” Adrien shook his head, saying, “I’m just some home-schooled kid working with his father.”

Spurred by the moment, Marinette laid her hand on Adrien’s arm, saying, “Hey, you are way more than that. You’re kind, and smart. You brighten everyone’s mood just by walking into a room.” Adrien laughed at that in disbelief. Marinette pressed on, “It’s true. If it weren’t, do you really think Nino would hang around you like he does? I swear, sometimes you two seem joined at the hip. Don’t you think so, Mr. Duval?”

Neither had noticed that Mr. Duval had long since left the room. Then, Marinette realized that she was in a closed room. Alone. With Adrien. With her hand on Adrien. Blushing furiously, Marinette took her hand back, suddenly finding the room all too hot for comfort.

After a moment, Marinette said, “Um, we should probably head back out there.”

However, as she reached for the knob, Adrien asked, “Think there was anything to it?”

Looking back, Marinette was struck once again by the rich green of his eyes. Taking a second to remember she had been asked a question, she asked, “Anything to what?”

“What Mr. Duval said,” Adrien explained, “about us sounding perfect together.”

Blushing slightly, Marinette said, “I honestly doubt that.”

“Well, how do you know?” Adrien asked.

Marinette scoffed, saying, “Please, with your voice? I would sound like a dying seal.”

Rolling his eyes, Adrien took Marinette’s hand, saying, “Come on, sit down.”

Any complaints died on her lips as she was pulled over to the chair, saying, “O-okay.”

Adrien then turned the two chairs to face each other, tapping the seat in front of him until Marinette sat down. There they sat, Adrien trying to catch Marinette’s attention, while she stared rather ardently at her lap, worried she would melt in the chair if their eyes met again.

Sighing, Adrien asked, “Would it help if I closed my eyes?”

Marinette nodded.

Shrugging, Adrien exaggerated his movements, throwing his arm out to the side before pivoting back to cover his eyes.

Adrien asked, “Oh, uh, what song do you want to sing?”

Marinette paused, trying to think of anything except the fact that Adrien was RIGHT THERE AND TALKING TO HER, before she said, “Uh, do you know Cleopatra?”

“Lumineers?” Marinette nodded, before rushing to say yes. Adrien shrugged again, saying, “Well enough. Why don’t you start, and I’ll join in?”

Clearing her throat, Marinette took a steadying breath, and began to sing. Immediately, Adrien’s head snapped back in surprise, nearly dropping his hand. Noticing, Marinette faltered in her song.

Gesturing with his free hand, Adrien said, “No, no, keep going.”

Picking the song back up, Marinette watched as Adrien grew more and more invested in her words. Smiling, Adrien began snapping his fingers in time, jumping into a lower harmony in the chorus. They fell into a pleasant rhythm, where one would sing a verse alone, and then they would harmonize for the chorus, before retreating into vocalization behind the other’s verse. The song finished, and they were much more comfortable to simply share silence.

Eventually, Adrien asked, “Um, is it okay if I look now?”

Before Marinette could respond, they heard Alya coo from the door, “Oh my god, you two are just adorable!”

“Alya!” Marinette cried, face flushed once more.

Retreating back to the main room, phone in hand, Alya called, “Nino, you gotta see this!”

Shocked and appalled, Marinette said, “Alya, you did not!”

However, as she began to storm out of the room, Adrien placed his hand on Marinette’s shoulder. Immediately, she stopped, turning back to Adrien. She had to stop herself from sighing dreamily, because Adrien’s gaze was far from obstructed as he stared into her eyes.

Squeezing her arm lightly, Adrien said, “Hey. That was amazing. Don’t sell yourself short next time, okay?”

Blushing again, Marinette blinked, nodding slowly. When Adrien exited the room, Marinette began absentmindedly rubbing where Adrien had held her. Eventually, though, his words sunk through Marinette’s daze.

Staring at the door Adrien left ajar, she squeaked out, “Next time?”

Adrien walked back out to the main room, taking in how much the scene had changed in such a short time. Alya and Nino were huddled around her phone, Mr. Duval listening in, trying to appear inconspicuous despite standing a full head taller than Ivan. Juleka was currently engaged in a conversation between Rose, Mylene, and Ivan, her bass slung across her back. Sabrina was currently making various hand gestures towards Nathaniel, who was using her as a reference. Finally, Max was trying to convince Alix and Kim that no, strapping subwoofers to a drum set was a very bad idea.

Noticing Adrien’s return, Mr. Duval stopped him close to the doorway, asking, “So, how’d it go?”

Adrien said, “Really well, actually. She sang beautifully.”

Narrowing his eyes, Mr. Duval asked, "You two did just sing in there, right?" At Adrien's confusion, Mr. Duval said, "Come on, man, do you really think I don’t notice you two sneaking out to, ‘Go to the restroom,’ at the same time? Every once in a while would be a coincidence, but I mean, every day? And the way she looks at you? Come on, you two could at least try to hide it a bit.”

Taken aback, Adrien was unsure how to answer that. He couldn’t exactly tell the truth, that most mornings Adrien was in a skintight cat suit fighting whatever emotional wreck Hawkmoth found that day. Besides, whatever Marinette was doing during Akuma attacks was her business. Mr. Duval then misunderstood his silence, giving Adrien a knowing eyebrow wiggle. Adrien’s blush of embarrassment did little to curb Mr. Duval’s imagination.

Willing to say anything to stop Mr. Duval's train of thought, adrien supposed a half truth would work, saying, “Sir, we’re not like that, honest. She’s a friend, and I do admit the bathroom breaks are coincidental, but I don’t see Marinette that way. Besides, I’ve actually got my eyes on someone else.”

At that, Adrien heard the door slam behind him. Alya whipped around at the sound, appraising the situation in an instant. Yanking her phone out of Nino’s hands, she stalked over to the side room. With nothing but a single knock, she entered the room, closing the door behind her.

Adrien moved to go after her, but stopped when Mr. Duval said, “Son, that's probably not a good idea.”

"Why not?" Adrien asked.

Nino had walked over, nodding to the door as he asked, "Who's in there? Marinette, right?" At Adrien's nod, Nino asked, "What happened?"

Adiren shrugged, but Mr. Duval said, "Your friend here admitted to liking someone. She heard the whole thing."

Nino's eyes widened as he said, "Oh. Oh no. Why'd you go and do that?"

Adrien slowly said, "Because, it's the truth...?"

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Mr. Duval said, "Adrien, you and Nino should head home. I'll stay here and wait for those two."

“But wait,” Adrien asked, “what happened here?”

Mr. Duval sighed, saying, “It’s not my place to say. Just, give Marinette some space for now. She’ll come to you when she’s ready. Actually,” Mr. Duval raised his voice to be heard by all, saying, “that’s enough for today everyone. Good work, we’ll pick this up on Monday. Stay safe this weekend, and remember.” Mr. Duval placed a fist over his heart, raising it to his lips, before capping the salute with his fist in the sky as he said, “Stay rocking.”

Adrien was ushered out of the warehouse, questions and worry flooding his mind. Once the class got a respectable distance away from them, Adrien pushed Nino into an alley to the side. He often used this alley to drop his transformation, due to the lack of foot traffic or cameras, but today it would serve a wholly different purpose.

“Alright, I know you know what’s going on.” Adrien asked, “What’s wrong with Marinette?”

Nino raised his hands, saying, “Dude, I don’t know any more than you do.”

Crossing his arms, Adrien said, “Please, you’re dating Marinette’s best friend. If anyone knows, you do.”

Rubbing his forehead, Nino said, “Look bro, it is really not my place to say.”

Grabbing his shoulders, Adrien pleaded, “Nino, you have to tell me. I won’t sleep tonight thinking I just pushed away one of my best and only friends.” Letting him go, Adrien put his hand over his mouth as he said, “Oh god, what if she hates me?”

Shoulders slumping, Nino said, “Bro, that’s not the problem. It’s kinda the opposite, really.”

Grabbing onto what lifelines he could, Adrien asked, “What is the problem, then? Was it something I said?”

Looking defeated, Nino said, “Kind of.”

“What was it?” Adrien was trying to catch his friend’s gaze, asking, “Please, Nino, how do I make this right?”

Sighing, Nino hung his head, saying, “Shit, Alya’s gonna kill me. Look, it was when you said you had your eyes on someone else, okay?”

Adrien nodded, expecting some added sentence to tie in Marinette’s response. When it didn’t come, he asked, “And?”

His mouth gaping in shock, Nino asked, “’And’ what? Do you seriously not see what happened? What’s been happening?”

“Just tell me –” Adrien said.

“She likes you okay?” Nino shouted, cutting him off.

 

“What.”

0o0o0

Alya entered the side room, closing the door behind her. She took a moment to take in the scene before her. Marinette was sitting on the floor, hunched over in a corner, straining to hold in tears that were rolling down her cheeks.

Clenching her fists, Alya asked, “What happened?”

Marinette was still wheezing, managing to say, “Stupid… So stupid…” She began thumping her head against the wall, “Of course he loves someone else. It makes sense. God, she’s probably another model.”

Closing the distance between them, Alya lowered herself to Marinette’s level. Without a word, she opened her arms to the crying girl. With a choked sob, Marinette accepted the hug, crying freely into Alya’s shoulder. Alya began smoothing Marinette’s hair, offering what emotional support she could.

After several minutes of tears, Marinette began to settle down. She was still inconsolable; she just seemed to run out of tears. Muffled by Alya’s shirt, Marinette said, “You know, I’m half surprised.”

“Oh?”

“Normally, you’re vowing vengeance at this point.”

Laughing softly, Alya said, “There will be plenty of time for vengeance later, and that blond bastard will pay. Now, though, my best friend needs me.”

After a shuddering breath, Marinette asked, “Am I an idiot?”

Concerned, Alya asked, “What the hell gave you that idea?”

Shaking her head, Marinette said, “Because I don’t want him to pay. I mean, I can’t fault him for what he feels, can I?”

Chuckling, Alya squeezed her friend in their hug, saying, “That just means you’re too good for this world. Anyone who can’t see it, that’s their loss. Specifically, their loss of limbs when I’m done with them.”

“You know, that I believe.” Marinette said, as she pulled away slightly from the hug. Alya was still holding her, but Marinette could move her face out from her shoulder. Laughing slightly, Marinette said, “You know, it’s funny. Five minutes ago, I was living out a dream. Now, that’s all gone.”

Alya said, “Yeah, I don’t get that joke.”

They stayed there for around an hour, Alya trying to reassure her friend that this was not, in fact, the end of the world. Although, if her spontaneous tears were any indication, it might as well have been.

Eventually, after a long pause between tears, Alya asked, “You ready to go back out there?”

Sighing, Marinette said, “No, but my parents were expecting me a while ago. They deserve at least a phone call.”

An idea forming in her head, Alya said, “Hold off on that. Let me call my folks first.”

Raising an eyebrow, Marinette asked, “Why?”

"Because if any day deserves a sleepover with too much ice cream, it’s this one.” Alya said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking around. Told you, Warehouse Antics! Good fun! Definitely no misunderstandings here!


	6. This was a School of Rock AU, right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, I will take a break from updating this monster. One day, I will actually pace myself. One day I will give myself the time to perform basic human functions, such as housework, homework, and school projects.
> 
> Today is not that day.

After one of the longest car rides Adrien had the displeasure of sitting through, he spared no glances to Nathalie or his father’s study as he made his way to his room. Besides, he knew only one of those was here, and she always seemed to know when to keep her distance.

Suddenly, Adrien remembered the last thing Nino said, “Look, if you don’t believe me, check the inner seam of your blue scarf. That should break through even your thick skull.”

Dropping his bag in the doorway, Adrien dashed to his dresser, pulling the top drawer open to reveal the best birthday gift his father had ever given him. Pulling it out, he marveled once again at just how soft it was. He began running his finger over the inner seam, wondering just what this could possibly clear u– What was that? On one of the ends, there was a small flap of fabric, hiding the seam. Pulling it back, Adrien finally understood. There, written in a cursive script, the maker of his scarf had signed their name. Marinette.

Adrien dropped the scarf, watching as it bunched on the ground. Marinette made this scarf. She had handmade a birthday present for him, when they had barely known each other. She had even let him believe it was from his father, because she knew it had made him happy. Marinette liked him. As if he had finally been given the reference for a puzzle, memories began connecting to form one outcome. The way she could stand up to Chloe every day, but would stumble over her words whenever Adrien looked her way. The furtive glances when she thought Adrien wasn’t looking. Her competitiveness towards Max for a spot in the tournament. The compliments she paid Adrien whenever they did manage to talk. The way she always seemed to blush in just the right shade to compliment those cute freck– No, bad Adrien.

Groaning, Adrien walked backwards, flopping onto his bed. Plagg settled onto his headrest as he asked, “So, I’m guessing no camembert?”

“Not now Plagg,” Adrien grumbled, tossing his arm over his eyes.

Rolling his eyes, Plagg said, “Really, I don’t see what the big deal is. So the girl likes you. Now, I may not completely understand your human relationships, but I think that’s usually a good thing.”

After a pause, Adrien said, “It’s complicated. Normally, you’re right. But I just said I loved someone else, and she heard it.” At Plagg’s look of confusion, Adrien said, enunciating with his hands, “Look, Marinette likes me, right? I like Ladybug. Unless, by some miracle, they’re the same person, the natural conclusion is that I don’t like Marinette. That’s what she heard, when I said I liked Ladybug.” Realization hit him like a bus, as he whispered, “Oh god, I broke her heart.”

Plagg groaned, mirroring Adrien’s splayed out posture as he said, “So let me get this straight. Marinette is upset because you like Ladybug, and she thinks that that takes you off the market. And you’re upset because you DON’T like Marinette, but don’t want to upset her. Right?”

Figuring the best thing to do was to be honest, Adrien said,”… Almost.”

Sighing, Plagg said, “See, this is why I don’t try to understand you humans. What did I get wrong?”

Staring at the ceiling, Adrien whispered, “… I think I like Marinette too.”

Sitting up, Plagg gaped, saying, “Wait wait wait, what? No, don’t answer that. I’m done. Enjoy your damn pining.”

The fact of the matter was, Adrien would enjoy pretty much anything else at that point. Still, Plagg left Adrien, flitting over to a closet for some privacy. Using a shirt as a blanket, Plagg settled down, drifting off to sleep.

 

0o0o0

 

Plagg opened his eyes to a field of darkness. Adjusting to the change, Plagg began his search, looking for that spark of light in it all. Eventually, cresting over the horizon like a star, Plagg spotted the bright pink aura that was Tikki. Noticing the abstract form she held, Plagg supposed she was still awake. Not surprising really, Plagg did take far more naps than she ever would.

Slowing to drift alongside the aura, Plagg asked, “Hey Tikki. How’s she doing?”

A drifting breeze came through the void, carrying a soft voice, _“Not good… She’s crying again… Alya suggested burning Adrien’s face from her magazines, and she didn’t like that idea.”_

Plagg chuckled saying, “Yeah, that sounds like her. Did you know my charge has the hots for yours?”

A light laugh came with the next message, _“I think the incessant flirting during battle gave that away.”_

Grinning, Plagg said, “I didn’t mean Ladybug.”

Pausing out of shock, the wind came again, this time as more of a hurricane, yelling, _“WHAT? That’s it, I’m meeting you there.”_

After a moment, the shimmering aura coalesced into the sleeping form of Tikki, her eyes opening after a moment. Without hesitation, she said, “Tell. Me. Everything.”

Still smiling, Plagg said, “Well, in order, he interrogated his friend, learned about the scarf, tried to explain their emotional complications to me, then confessed to loving both Ladybug and Marinette. To top it all off, he even said it would be a miracle if they were the same person. So, there’s that.”

Slumping her shoulders, Tikki asked, “So, he really doesn’t suspect a thing?”

Plagg shrugged, saying, “How could he? We’ve taken precautions on both sides to keep that from happening.”

“To protect them,” Tikki corrected.

Plagg rolled his eyes, saying, “Same difference. They don’t know anything, and that’s mostly on us.”

Tikki rubbed her temples, saying, “We are not arguing about this again. You know as well as I that Miraculous holders must keep their identities secret, to protect those close to them.”

“Yeah, but not from each other!” Plagg shouted.

Tikki scoffed, saying, “You’re right, but holders are supposed to find that out for themselves. It’s a sign of trust between them. We’ve gone through this again and again, and they always tell each other.”

“Yes, after years!” Plagg said, “And that’s if they don’t know each other already! Trust me, this whole situation will affect how they work together. The only way out right now is to tell them.”

Tikki asked, “Need I remind you that we took an oath not to interfere? The rules are set in place to defend the holders.”

Huffing, Plagg said, “The rules were made when an evil holder was impossible! Now, what if this lingering problem between them distracts one of them while fighting Nooroo’s holder? Their death would be on our hands.”

Tikki looked away, wincing as she whispered, “Their deaths are always on our hands.”

Plagg took hold of Tikki’s cheeks, meeting her gaze as he said, “Not when we can do anything about it. The best thing to do right now is let them know they can tell each other. That’s all we need to do.” Tikki nodded. Plagg said, “Please, I need to hear you say it”

Sighing, Tikki said, “When I can… I’ll tell Marinette.”

Plagg nodded, tapping their foreheads together as he said, “Thank you, Tikki. Now, don’t you have a sleepover to get back to?”

 

0o0o0

 

Plagg blearily opened his eyes, thankful for the rest. Floating through the cabinet door, he said, “Adrien, there’s something I should tell–”

He cut himself off, taking in the scene before him. Adrien was sitting on his bed, his blanket thrown over his shoulders, with a box of chocolates half-finished beside him. He had turned on the stereo and was currently playing one of his favorite love songs, staring at two photos before him. One was a printed shot from the Ladyblog, of Ladybug leaping into action with a smirk on her face, a personal favorite of his. The other; his school’s class photo. He was staring at the Kwami, silent tears staining his face, as he held a piece of chocolate up to his mouth.

Plagg sighed, more certain than ever that he needed to intervene, as he said, “I see you got introspective.”

Blushing, Adrien set the candy down, saying, “More like confused. There’s no way out of this, Plagg. Do I talk with Marinette, and say I think I like her too? But then, what about Ladybug? Do I just give up there? Is it right to do that?” Adrien cupped his face, whispering, “I don’t know what to do.”

Plagg flew in front of the boy, saying, “Well, I don’t know about all of… this. But there is something I’ve wanted to talk to you about. You know how you’ve always been trying to get Ladybug to tell you who she is as a civilian?” Spurred by Adrien’s nod, Plagg continued, “And you know how I’ve always said that it was against the rules to reveal your identities?” Another nod segued into Plagg’s final question, “Well, what if I was lying?”

After a pause, Adrien finally lifted his head, asking, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Plagg said, “I wasn’t entirely lying. You still can’t tell the public, that would just endanger you and yours. I have seen far too many Chat Noirs fall because they wanted fame. Regardless, there is someone you can tell.”

Not wanting to get his hopes up, Adrien asked, “Who?”

Smiling, Plagg said, “Well, you already trust her with your life. What’s a secret compared to that?”

Realization hit the poor boy in waves. First, confusion, his brow furrowing over narrowed eyes. Then, understanding, his eyes widening and his mouth gaping. Then, disbelief, his eyes narrowing again at the black Kwami. Eventually, he landed on shock, holding his forehead and staring at his sheets.

“Wait,” Adrien asked, “why are you telling me this now?”

Sighing, Plagg said, “Because normally you two would have naturally told each other months ago. This cycle has had some… Unique circumstances.”

Still in shock, Adrien said, “So, we can know who we are? Like, I could just find her, tonight, and tell her everything?”

Holding up his hands, Plagg said, “Hold your horses, kiddo. It’s not that simple. I have it on good authority that Ladybug is not in a good place to hear this right now. Like I said, unique circumstances. Trust me, I will let you know when it is possible to do this. For now, focus on sorting out… Whatever this is.” Plagg finished by gesturing to the two photos laying on Adrien’s bed.

 

0o0o0

 

It had been two days, and Marinette had barely left her room. She still needed her base necessities, and she still battled Akuma, but other than that, her parents saw neither head nor hair of her. They had tried to talk to her about it at first, but recently decided it would probably be best for her to come to them when she was ready. Even going out as Ladybug seemed more like a chore those days. More often than not, she simply stayed in whenever they were supposed to patrol. 

Marinette sighed, padding over to start putting back up her cutouts of Adrien. This chore was rather familiar to her at this point. She had a few hours of relative peace with her walls untouched, then the unshifting gaze of her unrequited love would become all too oppressive. Then, in a fit of hysterics and tears, Marinette would tear off every piece of Adrien’s face she could see. After a time, though, the emptiness of her walls would grow to be too much, preferring the familiar ache. Tikki floated up as Marinette grabbed the stack of pages, now mostly wrinkled and torn from abuse.

Tikki said, “Marinette, please, put those down. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Marinette asked, “Then, what am I supposed to do?”

What really hurt Tikki was how empty her friend’s voice sounded. Marinette, heroine of Paris, sounded utterly defeated.

Tikki sat on top of the magazine pages, saying, “I don’t pretend to have all the answers, Marinette… But I think I know something that will help. You need to tell Chat Noir who you are.”

Marinette dropped the papers, Tikki floating where she sat. “WHAT?” Marinette cried.

“Let me explain.” Tikki said, “I know I have said that there is no one you can trust with your identity, but the truth of the matter is that there is one person. Your partner, Plagg’s charge. We wouldn’t be your Kwami if you two couldn’t trust each other. Normally, we’re supposed to wait for you two to tell each other naturally, but this whole Hawkmoth situation has thrown everything out of balance. We need you two focused, and this,” Tikki gestured to the scattered papers, “this is not focused.”

Marinette rubbed her forehead, asking, “Alright, but, how could telling Chat who I am possibly help this?”

“I can’t answer that,” Tikki said, “but I know it will.”

 

0o0o0

 

“Hey loverboy!” Plagg called.

Adrien asked, “Yeah?”

“Meet’s tomorrow night, at the patrol point. Best wash up.”

 

0o0o0

 

The following morning, Adrien received an email before he left for school. It was from Mr. Duval, and simply read, “One on one lesson. Meet at the warehouse for first class.”

Mr. Duval had been using these past few days to meet with individual members of the band, and Adrien now knew it was his turn. Figuring he still had plenty of time, Adrien told his bodyguard the address, and they made their way to Mr. Duval. Adrien felt rather anxious, standing in front of the double doors, as this was the first time he’d be back there since his falling out with Marinette. In fact, Adrien was thinking of just leaving, going to school, and begging on his knees for her forgiveness.

However, any thoughts of leaving died when the doors opened, Mr. Duval welcoming him, saying, “Ah, Adrien, so glad you could make it. Please, come in, come in.”

Following Mr. Duval in, Adrien was struck by how much had changed since the last time he saw the place. The walls had been repainted, with large sound absorbing mats strapped to them. There were now sectioned off areas for equipment cleaning, storage, and food. In fact, there appeared to be a fully functional kitchen. And a bed mattress.

Adrien paused at that, asking, “Mr. Duval, do you live here?”

“Hmm?” Following Adrien’s gaze, Mr. Duval rushed over to kick the mattress into a corner, saying, “Well, uh, you see, when someone lives their life on the edge like I do, well, some unfortunate… Uh…” Mr. Duval hung his head, saying, “My roommate kicked me out.” Putting his hands on his hips, he said, “Still, I’ve got this place rented out for the year from the school’s road trip fund, so I should be good until I can get my feet back under me. Regardless, that’s not the reason you came here, and we don’t have all day.”

They spent a solid hour working through piano and singing lessons. Not that Adrien needed them to sound good, his other instructors taught him that. Over the years, Adrien had had the rules drilled into his head more times than he could count. What Mr. Duval was teaching him was how to do away with the rules altogether. How to play off the cuff, how to improvise when a show went to hell, and how to truly perform for a crowd.

Sweaty and panting, Mr. Duval said, “Alright, that should be enough for today. Come on, let’s sit down. Water?”

Adrien, who had hardly broken a sweat, said, “Sure.”

They sat like that for a while, sharing a comfortable silence. Over time, however, Mr. Duval started getting antsy.

Understanding, Adrien said, “Come on, just ask me if you’re gonna.”

“Have you talked with Marinette?” Mr. Duval asked.

Sighing, Adrien said, “Not yet. I was planning on doing that today.”

Looking to his watch, Mr. Duval said, “Well, you’ll be getting your chance in not too long. Although, might I suggest, don’t start apologizing first. Wait for her cue.”

Chuckling lightly, Adrien said, “I was planning on it. Any other sage advice?”

Readjusting to face him, Mr. Duval said, “Yes, actually. It’s about your other lady troubles.”

Blushing slightly, Adrien asked, “Oh? What do you mean?”

“This other girl you’re interested in.” Mr. Duval explained. He continued, “Does she know you like her?”

Adrien shrugged, saying, “I say it a lot, but I think she assumes I’m joking. We do that a lot, so it’s not like I’m surprised.”

Mr. Duval nodded as he said, “Okay. Look, take this for what it’s worth, but as someone who’s gone through half of his, life is far too short for worry. If you love this girl, and I mean real love, what is the worst thing that can happen if you tell her?”

Assuming it was obvious, Adrien said, “She could not feel the same way.”

Mr. Duval said, “Yes, but then you would know she doesn’t feel the same way. Or, you could do what I did, and spend your days wondering what might have been. Or, hey, you’re awesome, what if she feels the same way? Would you really decide to waste away in a friendship where both of you might want more, rather than risk it all and come out better for it?”

After a pause, Adrien asked, “But what if it ruins what we have?”

Mr. Duval shrugged as he said, “That’s why it’s called a risk. Do you trust this girl?”

“With my life,” Adrien said without hesitation.

Mr. Duval said, “Then, wouldn’t you trust her judgement if she did say no?” Adrien couldn’t answer that, so Mr. Duval said, “One minute.”

Raising an eyebrow, Adrien asked, “What?”

Mr. Duval crossed his arms, saying, “That’s all it takes. One minute of bravery, saying everything you’ve wanted to. After that, you at least know for certain.”

“Has that worked for you?” Adrien asked.

Mr. Duval shrugged, saying, “Not every time, but yes, it has. Even if it was just to help me move on, it’s worked.” Looking at his watch, Mr. Duval said, “Well, I may be a veritable barrel of wisdom, but way I understand it, your next class starts pretty soon. You should go ahead and head back to school.”

 

0o0o0

 

Throughout the day, Adrien was looking for an opening. Some point in time where he could finally apologize for what he’d said. Granted, he wasn’t certain exactly how he was going to do that, but he knew he needed to. Finally, it happened. Marinette was sitting with Alya under a tree, far enough away from the others to avoid eavesdroppers. Moving up towards them, Adrien made sure his presence was known before entering earshot.

At Alya’s signal, Adrien walked up and began, “Marinette, I–”

He stopped short when Marinette held up her hand. After a pause, she said, “Not right now. Hopefully tomorrow, but not right now.” With that, she stood up and walked away, not even glancing back at the pair left behind.

Sighing, Alya said, “Look, I know you’re sorry, but you really need to give the girl some space. I haven’t seen her like this in… Ever, really.”

Adrien nodded, hanging his head. Alya stood up, tapping his shoulder reassuringly, before she walked off to catch up with Marinette.

 

0o0o0

 

That night, Ladybug and Chat Noir met atop their favorite roof, the same place they always started their patrols. For Ladybug, this was a means to an end, the last attempt to find answers she so desperately needed. Chat, on the other hand, was both terrified and ecstatic, the night holding much promise. Whether that promise was good or bad was yet to be seen.

As he had done since his meeting with Mr. Duval, Adrien began questioning if this was really the right way to do things. The same questions he had been asking himself all day began cropping up, thinking, “What will she think?” “What will she say?” “Will she run?”

 

"What if this ruins everything?”

 

Ladybug noticed Chat wringing his hands, asking, “Hey, you alright Chat? You’ve usually said about three cat puns by now.”

Taking a deep breath, Chat closed his fist before whispering, “Just one minute.”

“What was that?” Ladybug asked.

Turning to face her, Chat said, “Ladybug, I need to talk to you.”

Grinning, she said, “That doesn’t sound good. What’s on your mind?”

Keeping his fist to his chest, Chat said, “Now, I need you to promise not to interrupt me for one minute. Can you do that?”

Raising an eyebrow, Ladybug slowly said, “Alright, one minute. Go ahead.”

Taking another steadying breath, Chat said, “Ladybug. I’m in love with you. I know I say that a lot, but I need you to know that I’m not joking.”

Ladybug was taken aback by this, her eyes widening to saucers beneath her mask. Yet, true to her word, she remained silent.

Pacing now, Chat continued, “Now, I know what you want to say. How can I love someone when I don’t even know their name? But, there is so much more to you than your name, Ladybug. I know you are kind, and stubborn. I know you can feel powerless at times, but you always try to do the right thing, no matter how the odds are stacked against you. Where others run in terror, you leap with joy, only armed with your yo-yo and a half-baked plan. You help everyone around you, without thanks or ceremony. Above all that, I know myself, and my emotions. And while I may be new to this whole love thing, I know that here and now, the two of us together, this is right. I know that there is no one down there that I would rather be on this rooftop with.

“But most of all, I want you to know that I trust you. Be it for advice, in combat, or with my secrets. I know you won’t use those against me because I know you, Ladybug.” Chat turned away from her, gripping his ring, before saying, “So I want you to know that I have nothing to hide from you, my lady.”

With that, Adrien pulled off his ring, his transformation breaking around him. Adrien could feel her eyes digging into his back, so he slowly turned to face her. What he did not expect, however, was Ladybug throwing her hand above her mouth in shocked horror. He also hadn’t expected her eyes to be able to widen further, but there they were.

Holding his own hand up, Adrien said, “Now, I know I’m over my minute, but I need you to hear that this comes with no expectations. If you’re not ready to take this next step, that is perfectly fine.”

Lowering her hand, Ladybug choked out what words she could, saying, “You’re… You’re…” Unable to accept the truth in front of her, Ladybug pointed to the street below them.

Following her gaze, Adrien saw one of his infamous perfume ads, the sepia background sticking out like a sore thumb. Sighing, Adrien thought, “Of course there’d be one in sight.” When Adrien nodded, Ladybug clapped her hand over her mouth again. As she screwed her eyes shut, a furious blush swept over her features, until it appeared her suit had covered her entire face.

Without moving her hand, Ladybug said, “Oh my god, you’re Adrien Agreste.”

Uncertain how to read her tone, Adrien said, “Uh, yeah?”

Ladybug said, “I’ve been running around Paris with Adrien Agreste.”

Adrien nodded, before remembering she couldn’t see him, saying, “The one and only?”

She said, “I’ve been saving Paris with Adrien Agreste.”

Rocking back on his heels, Adrien said, “For about a year, by my count.”

“Holy shit, this is what Tikki meant,” Ladybug whispered.

Cocking his head to the side, Adrien asked, “Tikki?”

Ladybug laughed a little, a sound Adrien was very glad to hear, as she said, “My Kwami. Where’s yours, by the way?”

Adrien opened his overshirt, showing the dark cat feasting on two wheels of cheese.

“I asked for two minutes of silence from him.” Adrien explained, “That was his price.”

Taking a steadying breath, Ladybug said, “Alright, well, there is a reason I came here. Just, don’t freak out, okay?”

Holding his left hand up, Adrien said, “I paw-mise.”

Ladybug blinked for a moment, eventually letting a laugh break through her blush. A laugh that didn’t let up as a bright pink light shone from her suit, hiding her as she doubled over, a little overwhelmed by the whole situation. Still laughing, Marinette wiped a budding tear from her eye, meeting Adrien’s awestruck gaze.

The laughter dying down, their rooftop fell into a rather uncomfortable silence. Marinette’s mind started running overtime, wondering just why Adrien wasn’t saying anything. “What if he doesn’t like me anymore, knowing who I really am?” “What if we can’t even be partners anymore?” “Is he disappointed it’s me?”

Adrien’s brain, on the other hand, had apparently stopped working. His wildest dream had just come true, and there he was, staring slack-jawed at the most beautiful girl he had ever met.

Marinette felt crestfallen, asking, “You’re disappointed, aren’t you?”

Probably the last thing she expected was for Adrien to close the distance between them, grab her by the waist, and pick her up. She barely registered that he was laughing ecstatically, spinning her around in the air, as enraptured as she was by the look of bliss on his face.

Finally opening his eyes to look up at Marinette, Adrien said, “Are you kidding me? This is the happiest I’ve been in my life!”

If Marinette blushed any harder, she swore she was going to faint. That did not, however, stop her from joining in in Adrien’s laughter. Neither cared at all if they woke the sleeping city beneath them. As far as they were concerned, the world ended at the edges of their roof.

From an adjacent rafter, Plagg said to Tikki, “You know, I think they’ve forgotten about us.”

Swatting his arm, Tikki said, “Oh, hush you, they’re adorable.”


	7. Morning Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we're back.

After acclimating to the truth that, yes, that did just happen, a yawn from Marinette capped the night, both realizing they needed to be up far too early tomorrow. When they had both transformed again, Marinette rolled her eyes at Adrien’s offer to carry her home, “Like the princess she is,” finding her own way back from their patrol point. She made sure she was seated before dropping her transformation, knowing her legs would most likely fail her without Tikki’s added strength. True to form, Marinette sunk into her couch, laughing softly at the events of the night.

Staring at the ceiling, Marinette whispered, “Oh my god, that just happened.”

After a pause, Tikki asked, “Marinette? Are you mad at me?”

Marinette scrunched her brow at the curled up Kwami in her hands, asking, “What do you mean Tikki?”

Avoiding her gaze, Tikki said, “Well, I hid the truth from you. I knew, but I didn’t say anything. Regardless of my reasons, I know you’d be angry at that.”

Taking a moment to look within herself, Marinette had to admit, she had a point. Tikki had flat out lied to her to keep her and Adrien apart. It was all to protect her, but the fact remained. The truth of the matter was, though, Marinette couldn’t find the resolve to be angry at her. Aggravated she hadn’t noticed the resemblance before, perhaps, but not at Tikki.

Marinette brought Tikki up to her face, saying, “Hey, I’m not mad. You did what you did to protect me, and told me when I needed it. Really, I should probably thank you.”

At that, Tikki looked up at her charge, not even bothering to hide her confusion.

Marinette went on, “I mean, I’ve been fighting with Chat daily for nearly a year, seeing Adrien most of that time, all without noticing they were the same person.” Laughing, she said, “It’s not even that good of a mask! Looking back, it’s all pretty funny, actually. Now, that might just be the shock kicking in, but I could never be angry at you, Tikki.”

Chuckling, Tikki bumped their foreheads together, saying, “You know, you’re honestly taking this a good deal better than I expected. Much better than the last Ladybug, that’s for sure. When they revealed each other, my charge didn’t leave her bed for weeks.”

“Huh,” Marinette said, “you never talk about past Ladybugs.”

Sighing, Tikki said, “There’s a reason for that.”

They sat like that for a minute, both thankful this didn’t cause a rift between them.

Groaning, Marinette sat up, saying, “Well, as much as I may want to crawl into bed and be done with today, there is one more thing I need to do.”

As she pulled out her phone, Tikki asked, “What’s that?”

Punching in her speed-dial, Mariette said, “Call off a hunt.”

After a moment, Alya’s voice rang through the receiver, asking, “Hey, Marinette, how are you holding up?”

Marinette said, “Good, actually.”

Picking up on her tone, Alya asked, “Wait a second, what happened? Three hours ago you were crying, and you sound downright chipper now. What gives?”

Humming, Marinette asked, “Short answer, or long?”

Alya said, “Girl, you know me. Both. Short answer to get the point across, long to explain it.”

Taking a bracing breath, Marinette said, “I talked with Adrien. We’re good now.”

“After I went through all this trouble to get a Voodoo doll?” Alya asked, continuing, “Okay, you best start explaining before I use it on you.”

Laughing slightly, Marinette said, “Okay, okay, no need for drastic measures.”

Marinette heard a muffled, “But I like drastic…”

Ignoring that, Marinette said, “Okay, I’m prepared to give you the long version, but it comes with a disclaimer. There are certain parts of this that I can’t say without breaching someone’s trust. A trust that I can’t break, not even for you.”

Alya gasped, clutching a hand to her chest as she sarcastically said, “You mean, I don’t get to hear the deep and gritty secrets shared in confidence? You wound me.”

Marinette said, “Ha ha, very funny. But no, are you ready for the long version?”

Alya deadpanned, “Are you looking for a cordial invitation?”

“Right, sorry.” Marinette said. Taking a deep breath, Marinette asked, “So… You know that girl Adrien likes?”

Concerned, Alya asked, “That skank who’s had you weeping off and on for over 80 hours?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve heard of her.”

“Well,” Marinette said, “through a set of circumstances that I cannot divulge, that girl… Turned out to be me.”

There was a solid minute of stunned silence between them, before Alya yelled, “WHAT?”

Holding the receiver away from her ear, Marinette said, “It was a huge misunderstanding on everyone’s part. I’m honestly still reeling from it all.”

“Not from the sound of it you’re not. You sound… Calm.” Alya said.

Marinette shrugged, saying, “I’m convinced that’s shock. My head is still running at 100 kilometers an hour, I just can’t seem to find the energy to voice that.”

“Okay,” Alya said, “as much as this all confuses me, you could have just texted me all of this, rather than call me at 11:30. You know that. What’s the real reason you called me?”

Marinette nervously picked at her shirt, asking, “Well… What do you think I should do?”

After a pause, Alya said, “Okay, let me get this straight. First, you’ve had a crush on this boy for five hours less than I’ve known you. Next, four days ago he says he’s interested in someone else. Finally, after a talk that I expect a play-by-play of later, you learn that this mystery girl is, in fact, you. And you’re asking my advice on, what exactly? Where to hold the wedding?”

Blushing, Marinette said, “No, nothing like that! It’s just… We haven’t really talked about what to do next.”

Alya groaned, asking, “Marinette, why do you always do this to yourself? You have a literal supermodel wrapped around your pinky, and you’re asking me what to do. It’s obvious!”

Falling onto her bed, Marinette groaned, “I know, but it’s scary.”

“Scary and obvious!” Alya replied. Sighing, she said, “Okay, look Marinette, I love you, you know I do, but I swear, you have the thickest skull I have ever seen. You aren’t even focusing on the right thing!”

Rolling her eyes, Marinette asked, “Oh, and pray tell, what is the right thing?”

Alya practically yelled, “The fact that Adrien Agreste likes you! Look, I need to update Nino if Adrien isn’t doing that now. Thanks for ruining my sleep tonight.”

With that, Alya hung up, leaving Marinette alone with her thoughts. Staring at the ceiling, Marinette realized she would most likely not be getting any sleep that night.

 

0o0o0

 

Staring at his ceiling, Adrien called Nino, saying, “Dude, I just admitted everything to Marinette.”

Groggily, Nino deadpanned, “That’s great, Adrien, go back to sleep.”

"No, you don’t under–” Adrien said

“Night, bro.” Nino interrupted, hanging up the phone.

Adrien was left with his thoughts, realizing he would most likely not be getting any sleep that night.

 

0o0o0

 

That next morning, Adrien and Marinette woke with the dawn, getting ready for class. Marinette’s mind had yet to slow down from last night, her fitful sleep only seeming to increase her worry.

As she prepped for the day, Marinette couldn’t stop asking herself, “Why didn’t we talk last night? I know we were tired, but we couldn’t have even started? Are we a couple? Are we not? Do I want us to be?”

As Adrien brushed his teeth, he thought, “Why didn’t I get her number?”

Grabbing her books, Marinette thought, “I mean, sure, I’ve had a crush on Adrien for months, but he’s Chat Noir too? Do I like that? Is that a deal breaker? I mean, he’s funny, and brave, and witty, but he can be so obnoxious sometimes. Is that what I want? Wait, what if Adrien left so quickly because I’m not what he wants?”

Pulling on his over shirt, Adrien thought, “Seriously, I could have sent her a good morning text and everything.”

Walking up to their class, Marinette thought, “I mean, I know he said he was happy, but what if he isn’t? Ladybug, girl of his dreams, turns out to be bumbling Marinette. Oh god, what if he’s embarrassed to be seen with me?”

Walking up to the open door, Adrien thought, “Wow, she’s wearing a really cute blouse today.”

Marinette had planned to demand answers from Adrien. At the very least, they were going to talk before going into class. She had told herself that there was no way in hell that she was sitting behind this boy without knowing exactly what they were.

However, no amount of planning could prepare her for Adrien bringing her in for a side hug, kissing the top of her head, and saying, “Good morning sweetie.”

Adrien then walked into class, apparently without noticing that with three simple words, he had left Marinette a blushing, blubbering mess. He was also seemingly oblivious to the entire class watching his every step, a slack-jawed Mr. Duval staring at him as he sat down. Chloe, for her part, was glaring daggers Marinette’s way. She abruptly stood up, stalking over to the doorway, where Marinette still looked like a bucket of red paint had been dumped on her face.

Drawing the class’ attention, Chloe asked, “Alright, what do you have on him?”

The question took a moment to break through, Marinette asking, “W-what?”

Chloe scoffed, saying, “Oh please, you know what I mean. There is no way in hell that Adrien Agreste would willingly kiss your ratty hair, so you’re going to tell me what blackmail you have. If you don’t, I guess I’ll just have to have your parents’ shop closed down, it’s not like they were using it anyway. Besides, a rat like you deserves to sleep on the streets. Honestly, I’d be doing a public service, knocking you back down where you bel–”

“Chloe. That. Is. Enough.”

Chloe flinched at the raw venom dripping from Adrien’s voice. Looking back, Chloe saw that Adrien had risen from his seat, his arms tensing to hold himself back. Adrien was absentmindedly clawing into the desk with his nails, because that was Ladybug, no, that was Marinette she was talking to. What made Chloe truly afraid, though, was the unbridled rage in his eyes. She had rarely seen this emotion from the soft-spoken boy, but never at this intensity. Especially not directed at her.

Chloe started back-pedaling immediately, saying, “Oh, uh, Adrikins, I was just reciting a scene for a play Marinette and I have in Drama. You believe me, don’t you?” She silently congratulated herself for tossing in a cute pose, along with a few bats of her eyelashes. It had worked in the past, it would work now.

Needless to say, Chloe was stunned when Adrien stood up, making his way to the open door, never breaking his heated gaze. Maintaining eye contact, Adrien slammed the door in Chloe’s face.

Mr. Duval let out a quiet, “Oooooooooooh,” his hands pointing at the door, eyes moving between it and Chloe. When she whirled around to face him, Mr. Duval cleared his throat, correcting his composure by pretending to read the textbook. After a moment, he nonchalantly flipped it right side up.

Outside, Adrien quickly turned around, reaching out to smooth Marinette’s bangs as he asked, “Are you alright?”

Stunned, Marinette whispered, “Why did you do that?”

Confused, Adrien said, “She has no right to talk to you like that. I was just–”

Smacking his hand away, Marinette yelled, “Why did you do that? Chloe doesn’t make idle threats!” Holding her forehead, Marinette said, “Oh my god, I need to call my parents.”

Catching her arm, Adrien said, “There’s no need for that. Your parents aren’t going anywhere.”

Marinette scoffed, asking, “Have you forgotten who the mayor’s daughter is here? I bet all she’d have to do is say she found a hair in a sweet bun, and we would be evicted before the day was out.”

Shrugging, Adrien said, “Yeah, you’re probably right, but you forget that I’m the son of one of the most famous designers in France. A designer who happens to have a habit of relaxing with an eclair from a certain bakery near here. Trust me, no amount of whining from Chloe could sink your parents’ business. Besides, if that’s really how she’s been talking to you, I’d say she deserved that and more.”

Marinette took a moment to let her worry fade. Eventually, she let out a little laugh, saying, “It was really nice to see her get a door slammed in her face. What do you wanna bet that was the first time that’s happened?”

Thinking for a second, a wicked grin spread across Adrien’s features. Bending down to Marinette’s level, he asked, “How about a kiss?”

Stammering, Marinette jumped back, her blush returning in full force. Somehow, even though it was a line she had heard countless times from Chat, seeing his cheekbones this time made her heart dance. Seeing her jump back, however, Adrien began questioning if he had read the situation wrong. His grin fell, beginning to reach out to her, before deciding it might be best to keep his hands where they were.

Straightening, Adrien said, “Sorry, I just thought… With this whole situation I thought we were, um…” He began rubbing his arm sheepishly, hoping beyond hope that the floor would open and swallow him whole.

Marinette rushed to say, “No, no it’s okay, I just… Sorry.” She sighed then, before asking, “We’re bad at this, aren’t we?”

After a moment of awkward silence, Adrien squared his shoulders before extending his hand.

“Hi,” he said, “my name’s Adrien. What’s yours?”

Confused, Marinette asked, “What are you doing?”

“Introducing myself,” Adrien explained. At her raised eyebrow, Adrien said, “You’ve known two halves of me for about a year now. The prim and proper Agreste heir, and the thrill-seeking, pun wielding Chat Noir. I am completely both, but I am neither completely. I’d like you to meet both, if that’s alright.”

Looking between his sweet smile and outstretched hand, Marinette found herself smiling as well, clasping Adrien’s hand.

“Hi Adrien,” she said, “I’m Marinette. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”


	8. Eclipsa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CHARACTER DEATH.  
> TEMPORARY, BUT STILL.  
> FAIR WARNING.

As the two of them reentered their classroom, they saw that Chloe had actually sat back down at her seat. She was typing furiously, no doubt writing a seething review for the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. Not that it would matter, as those reviews were religiously monitored by a subsidiary of Gabriel Inc. Any false reviews posted were checked and double checked before being promptly removed. When one had enough resources, they could splurge to protect the pleasures of life.

When Marinette took her seat, however, Chloe finally looked up from her phone, glaring once again at her.

Seeing all of this, Mr. Duval sighed, saying, “Chloe, we need a manager meeting outside. Alix, go ahead and take over Rock History Hour for now.” When Chloe did not shift her gaze, he said, much more forcefully, “Chloe. Now.”

With a sour expression, Chloe walked through the door Mr. Duval held open, closing it behind them both.

Out of earshot of the class, Mr. Duval asked, “What is your problem?”

Chloe barked out a laugh, asking, “’What’s my problem?’ Uh, did you not see what just happened? Marinette was all over my Adrien.”

Crossing his arms, Mr. Duval said, “Way I saw it, Adrien started everything. Marinette just kind of, stood there.”

“Well then she was manipulating him!” Chloe yelled.

“Ah, yes,” Mr. Duval mocked, “the immobile manipulation technique. How did I not see it before?”

Chloe rolled her eyes, saying, “Oh, you know what I mean.”

“Actually, no, I don’t.” Mr. Duval said, “Do you mean to tell me that Marinette somehow forced Adrien to both kiss and _protect_ her, all without saying a word?” When Chloe moved to speak, Mr. Duval pressed on, asking, “Or, that she somehow has some form of blackmail, and was using it to get nothing but a sweet sign of intimacy? Do you mean to say, that you cannot physically see that Adrien chose to do that? To kiss the one girl you seem to despise above everyone else? And that’s saying something! Tell me, what claim do you have to that hate? What justification do you have for the way you just acted?”

“HE’S MINE!” Chloe screamed. Her petulance withered, however, when Mr. Duval’s look of disappointed rage didn’t even flinch.

“No.” Mr. Duval calmly said, “He isn’t. And you would be wise to learn that.”

With that, Mr. Duval turned back to teach his class. Chloe was left on the walkway, a slowly closing door her only companion. With tears stinging her eyes, Chloe marched down the stairs, desperate to get home and forget this whole day happened.

Distance, however, did little to curb her rage. If anything, the more time she had to stew over her morning, the more she felt her blood boil. Dismissing her butler, Chloe gripped the railing of her window until her knuckles grew white. Walking as if in a trance, Chloe found the framed picture of Adrien she kept by her bed. Her vision clouding with pain and rage, hot tears fell on its glass.

That is, until a sickly familiar voice called out in her mind, saying, “We meet again, Miss Bourgeois. Yet, I can tell, you are no longer Antibug. No, you have outgrown that mantle. Now, you shall be known as Eclipsa. Do you remember our deal, Eclipsa?”

Smiling, she said, “But of course, Hawkmoth.”

 

0o0o0

 

When Mr. Duval walked back into his class, he wasn’t surprised to see Marinette and Adrien trapped in conversations with their classmates. It appeared that Ivan and Mylene were trying to congratulate Adrien for finally moving on his emotions like they did, while he was assuring them that they had yet to really take that plunge. Meanwhile, Marinette was being tugged into two different conversations. The first was with Alix and Kim, both trying to act casual while asking leading questions about how she had opened that door in their friendship. The other was with Juleka and Rose. Well, mostly Rose, as she was practically jumping for joy hanging onto Marinette’s arm, while Juleka listened in. Nino and Alya seemed content to wait their turn, knowing they would be able to get the pair alone before too long.

Mr. Duval cleared his throat, the very picture of poise. Waiting for the general din to die down, he said, “Now, it comes to my attention that our beloved Marinette and Adrien have just begun one of the greatest journeys life has for them. I wish you well, and may the gods of rock look down on you with favor. Seriousness out of the way,” Mr. Duval dropped his posture, throwing his arms out to point at the both of them as he yelled, “AAAAAAAAAAY!” At the laughs of those present, he continued, “But no, congrats you two, seriously.” Clapping his hands together, he then asked, “Now, is this a class or not? Where did we leave off, Alix?”

Making her way back to her seat, she said, “Same place you did, Mr. Duval.”

“Alright, I can work with that.”

For the next hour, Mr. Duval walked them through the rise and fall of rock subgenres, such as Grunge, Synth, and Glam. However, when he began speaking about the suspected return of Hair rock in the coming years, the class noticed that it was getting progressively darker outside.

Looking outside, they saw that the sun had been blocked by what appeared to be a thick sheet of white silk. Following a strand of the thick material, they saw a woman floating above the Parisian skyline. She wore braided strands of the silk material, cascading off of her in billowing ribbons. Her face was hidden by a long pane of tinted glass, but the high ponytail she wore revealed her identity to all gathered.

Marinette, Adrien, and Sabrina, all whispered, “Chloe.”

Eclipsa raised her arms, head lolling back as she whispered, “Mine.”

The ribbons billowing off of her stood at attention, snapping into place to point at the school. A line of illumination began filtering through the top layer of the silk, winding its way around Eclipsa’s body before entering the rigid ribbons. Marinette and Adrien barely had time to get everyone away from the windows before lines of burning light poured out of the silk, melting everything in its path. Stone, metal, glass, it mattered not.

As rivers of molten material poured down the face of the school, Marinette yelled over the crowd, “Mr. Duval, get everyone out of here! Follow the halls to the shelter beneath the school!”

Beginning to follow her instructions, he stopped at the door, asking the pair, “Wait, what are you two doing? We need to go.”

Adrien shrugged, saying, “Believe it or not, bathroom.”

 

0o0o0

 

“Did you really need to knock him out?” Ladybug asked.

Shrugging, Chat Noir replied, “What? You really think he would have just let us out of his sight when an Akuma was literally right outside the window?”

Vaulting over the rooftops of Paris, the pair moved closer to Chloe’s back, only to be stopped once again by pillars of light.

Running away from the trailing fire, Chat groaned, “Ugh, there is no way she should know where we are! You hear me, Chloe? Your powers are bullshit!”

Ladybug rolled her eyes, saying, “Well, if you kept your voice down, maybe she wouldn’t be able to find us so easily.”

Eclipsa had yet to move from her position over the school, seemingly able to observe everything under her. The truth of the matter was, the ribbons surrounding her had two purposes. The first was a radial attack using collected solar energy, and the other was visual input relayed back to her facemask. Wherever they pointed, she could divert her attention to see through them. Multiple ribbons were devoted to pure sight, scanning the dispersing crowds for the two people she loathed the most. That damn girl who had the gall to steal her Adrien, and that fat bastard who couldn’t see how the world had orchestrated against her.

However, these two were becoming a pain to deter. Once again, they attempted to find some blind spot, some weakness in her armor, only to nearly die under her gaze. At first, it had been exhilarating, now, it grew tiresome. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, Eclipsa flew down to meet Ladybug and Chat Noir. Bare feet touching the rooftop, Eclipsa grabbed one ribbon in both hands, a concentrated burst of light erupting from both. Willing them to connect and feed back into each other, the result was a thin line of blue light, held with one hand by the silk ribbons. This was her only close-quarters weapon, a sword of pure light. Never had a weapon fit her so well. Ladybug and Chat Noir rounded a corner, finally seeing Eclipsa standing on the ground. Without a word, Eclipsa raised her sword towards the pair.

Readying his staff, Chat said, “My lady, it might be a good time for some luck.”

Nodding, Ladybug threw her yo-yo to the sky, crying out, “Lucky Charm!”

Of all the things she expected to come falling from the sky, a polka-dot fireman’s hat was not one of them. Both looked to her hands in confusion. Eventually, Ladybug shrugged and set the hat on Chat’s head, taking stock of what she had for a plan.

Chat’s hat.

A firetruck attempting to douse a burning building.

The large train of silk absorbing energy from the sun.

Ladybug nodded to Chat, letting him know she had a plan. Still wearing the terribly clashing helmet, Chat charged into battle, spinning his quarterstaff. Meeting Eclipsa half-way, Chat hammered down with his quarterstaff, trying to knock Eclipsa off balance.

“Thank god for indestructible equipment,” Chat thought, as the first collision with the blue beam sent a wave of searing heat his way.

For her part, Ladybug had swung off of the building. Landing in front of the firemen, she explained her plan, pointing to the large piece of silk. As they nodded, Ladybug called up to Chat, “Get her down here!”

“Kinda busy!” Chat replied, trying ardently not to get melted, slashed, and/or run through by Eclipsa. Chloe must have had some level of fencing training before being enhanced, as it was pretty much all Chat could do to keep a stalemate between them. Factoring in the increased reflexes and reaction time that Plagg offered, and Adrien knew he wouldn’t stand a chance by himself.

Eventually, Chat found an opening where he could safely jump down from the roof. That is, until a searing pain erupted from his right leg, fading into a white hot void. Evidently, Eclipsa’s close and ranged attacks were not mutually exclusive, as she had sent out a beam to trip him at the last second. The end result was Chat falling gracelessly on his face two stories down, his right calf landing shortly after. Eclipsa took her time, stalking her prey. Floating down from the roof, she allowed her ribbons to billow in the breeze, forming a twisted halo around her form.

Ladybug was in shock, her world crumbling around her. There, lying motionless in the dirt was Chat Noir, her partner in every sense, at the mercy of this wordless creature Hawkmoth had created. She did not know what part of her mind still held onto such antiquated notions as self-preservation, but whatever it was, it kept her from clawing tooth and nail at the Akuma, tearing her apart until she saw that familiar black butterfly. In time, she would question if she would have ever stopped had she followed through with that plan. For now, though, some part of her recognized that Eclipsa had lead her train within range.

Motioning to the firemen, they turned on the hose, spraying freezing water towards the silk. The reaction was nigh-on instantaneous, the silk shrinking to drag the train down from the sky. The added weight with less support suddenly couldn’t hold itself up, and lost its opportune placement in the sky, parts of it even falling into shadow. So, when Eclipsa raised a single ribbon towards Chat’s skull, Ladybug let out a true thanks to any and all above that nothing but a tiny red dot appeared on Chat’s hair.

Whipping out her yo-yo, Ladybug lashed out towards Eclipsa’s facemask, shattering the glass as it tumbled to the ground. Spotting the darkened butterfly, Ladybug fought for the world record in speed-cleansing, doing away with any extraneous motions as she scooped up the Akuma. Tapping open her yo-yo, Ladybug let out a sigh of relief when the familiar white butterfly flitted to the sky. Within seconds, Chloe returned to normal, a pair of designer shades lying on the ground.

Rushing to Chat’s side, Ladybug flipped him over, propping his head on her leg. Taking the Lucky Charm in hand, Ladybug threw it to the sky, her catchphrase more of a plead to the heavens this time, rather than a cry of victory. The energy broke apart, rushing to repair what Hawkmoth had done, eventually coalescing around Chat. When they cleared, Chat was whole and breathing, a fact that Ladybug hadn’t noticed was missing in her rush.

Blinking his eyes, Chat said, “Oh, uh… I guess we won?”

Finally grasping the weight of what just happened, Ladybug broke into sobs, laying her head against Chat’s. He was here. He was alive. He was whole. He hadn’t been any of those but two seconds ago. But there they were, holding each other in the middle of a street. Life itself suddenly seemed far too thin a concept, compared with the insurmountable divide they had just had a taste of. Chat was alive. Adrien was alive. Marinette loved them both.

So why was she hesitating?

Before either really understood what was happening, Marinette was kissing him. Closing their eyes, the world around them seemed to fall away, the only points in the universe reduced to Here, and Now.

Here was a mystery.

Now was a miracle.

And the kiss was…

Suffocating. In the best of ways.

Finally breaking for air, Chat blinked up at the sky, thanking any and all above for this gorgeous woman holding him, as he whispered, “… Wow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. This took a turn I didn't expect.
> 
> See you guys next time.


	9. Lick your wounds

“Can you walk?”

The question took a second to break through Chat’s euphoria, eventually saying, “Uh, I think so.”

Pulled up by Ladybug, Chat tested his weight on his right foot. Immediately, he began to fall, caught by the scruff of his neck by Ladybug. Chat blanched, realizing he couldn’t feel anything below his knee.

Sweating, Adrien began to process the long term. Months, maybe years of physical therapy, and that was just to walk with a cane instead of crutches. Would it be better to amputate? How long would he be in a wheelchair? Oh god, he couldn’t walk like this, let alone fight. If he couldn’t fight… He couldn’t be Chat Noir.

And Paris needed Chat Noir.

His thoughts were halted, however, when he felt a light tickling on his heel. The feeling spread, first to his toes, then up his calf. As it went, it intensified. What had begun as a tickle, grew to a restless tingle, then a gripping pressure. Worse yet, the feeling became similar to thousands of needles pressed against his skin. Falling onto his side, Chat was left gasping for air, a silent scream on his face, as his leg felt like an endless sea of white noise. Later, when he could think straight, he would diagnose it as the worst case of pins-and-needles he would ever have the joy of feeling. For now, it was all he could do not to rip the leg off again. The void was better than this ceaseless information. Words of worry from Chloe went completely ignored, Ladybug scooping Chat into her arms. Swinging her yo-yo to a distant banister, the pair soared into the air.

 

0o0o0

 

Adrien opened his eyes to a pink sky. Blinking, he began to understand that no, the sky was not pink, it was a painted roof. Connected to pink walls. Walls covered in fashion magazine pages and sketches. Shifting his head on the pillow – Wait, pillow? Sheets? Bed?

... Naked?

Lifting the covers, he found that was not, in fact, naked, just stripped to his boxers and wrapped like a mummy. Adrien sighed in relief, before remembering that he was still in his boxers in a stranger’s bed. Sitting up, Adrien winced at a stinging pain from his arms and shoulders.

In response, Adrien heard a call from below, saying, “No, don’t get up!”

Adrien relaxed at the sound of his lady’s voice, slumping back onto the sheets. Inspecting his arms, Adrien found that they had been bandaged in gauze, restricting most of his movement. Memories flooding back, Adrien ignored the complaints of his arms as he flung the covers off of his lower half. Staring down at his legs, Adrien saw that while his calf was thankfully attached, it was wrapped heavily in the thick gauze, resembling a splint up to his thigh. Adrien turned when he heard the ladder next to the bed creak. There was Marinette, a basin of water on her hip, trying her best not to ogle at Adrien’s exposed chest.

Remembering why she was there, Marinette said, “Uh, I brought some water. I thought it might help with the…”

Grimacing at the pain, Adrien tried and failed to close his fist as he asked, “What happened?”

Taking up a rag, Marinette began to wring water through it as she said, “Your suit took the brunt of the damage. And Miraculous Cure helped with some of it, but…” Laying down the rag, Marinette climbed onto the bed. Gently, she began unwrapping one of Adrien’s hands. Wincing at the sudden air, Adrien finally saw the dark burns on his skin. Winding through his fingers and disappearing into the bandages, Adrien now sported a jagged strip of red, blistered skin. The tops of his fingers faced the brunt of it, able to see the muscles beneath his skin.

With a shaky breath, Marinette said, “Chloe just ran a little too hot during your fight.” Taking up the rag again, Marinette said, “We need to keep this clean. This is gonna sting.”

Lightly pressing the cold rag to his skin, a sting was the last thing on Adrien’s mind. A sting was what you feared from a mosquito, or perhaps a bee every now and again. This felt more like a field of miners digging into his skin for gold, only armed with rusty, dull, fishhooks. So, it was a little more than a sting that caused Adrien to cry out in pain. He attempted to grip the sheets with his other hand, before being rudely reminded how bad of an idea that was.

Slumping onto the sheets, Adrien settled for grinding his teeth as he asked, “Why… Why am I not in a hospital? This seems like something a hospital should handle.”

Sighing, Marinette said, “You passed out when your leg was reattached. Apparently, a sleeping Miraculous holder uses up less energy, so it took longer for your transformation to wear off than usual. Scratch that off of the endless list of questions that come with our powers. I had to bring you here, and wait until you either woke up, or naturally broke your transformation.” Laughing lightly, Marinette said, “Well, you can guess what happened first. But… As soon as Plagg left you…”

Groaning, Adrien said, “Please, keep talking.” Adrien tried to grin, but it came out as more of a grimace as he said, “Just hearing my lady speak is the best pain-killer I knoooOOOO–” He was cut off, his words slipping into a howl of pain when Marinette dragged a little too harshly on his hand.

Rushing to rewet the towel, Marinette said, “Sorry, sorry, that was me. Where was I?”

Adrien grunted out, “Plagg… Leaving…”

“Right, right.” Marinette began lightly washing his hand again, as she said, “When Plagg left you… The smell hit me first. It smelled like a smokehouse, mostly from your leg…” Taking out a new piece of gauze, Marinette began rewrapping his hand, saying, “Remembering you had been in direct contact with that Akuma, I started to inspect what wounds might have been left. And… I didn’t know if you were good to move, so I wanted to wait until you woke up. I used that time to dress what I could see, so there should be less of a chance for infection, and, and…” Marinette was close to tears as she choked out, “I’m so sorry, Adrien.”

Looking up at that, Adrien asked, “For what, my lady?”

Staring sorrowfully at his hand, Marinette said, “All of this… You only had to fend off Chloe because I couldn’t figure out what to do. This is all my fault… I wasn’t fast enough.”

Adrien ignored his pain as he reached up to wipe away Marinette’s tears, saying, “Hey, enough of that. I’m the distraction, that’s how it’s always been. Besides, if I have to bear a few scars to keep you out of harm’s way?” Adrien shrugged, continuing, “Then I guess I need to figure out some good excuses for my father.”

Holding his hand to her cheek, Marinette said, “You make it sound like you’d die for me.”

Pouting, Adrien said, “I thought I’d done that one already. Couple times, actually.” Sitting up, Adrien looked into Marinette’s eyes as he said, “No, my lady. I would do more than die for you. I would live for you.”

Making certain there was no force behind it, Marinette smacked at his chest, saying, “Dork.”

“I’m serious,” Adrien said. Catching her gaze again, Adrien said, “Every moment of every day, I would willingly live through everything life has for me, if it meant I would be rewarded by your smile in the end.”

Suddenly realizing how close they were on her bed, Marinette blushed, asking, “How long have you had that line memorized?”

Adrien smiled, replying, “Ever since your lips graced mine.”

Leaning in slightly, she asked, “And that line?”

Eyes half-lidded, Adrien said, “Ever since we met.”

And there, lit only by the skylight above, the pair kissed once again. Where their last kiss was rushed, this one was patient. Where their last kiss was hungry, this one was comfortable. Where their last kiss felt terrified, this one felt safe. The world didn’t fall away. All their pain was still clamoring for their attention. But still, their kiss could only be described as miraculous.

Reluctantly parting, Adrien whispered, “… Wow.”

Laughing, Marinette said, “You say that every time.”

“And I will as long as you let me, my lady.” Adrien said, a wide grin on his face. Pressing their foreheads together, he said, “Thank you, Marinette.”

Shaking her head, she said, “Don’t thank me yet.”

Eyes closed and content, Adrien asked, “Oh?”

“I still need to redress the other arm.” Marinette said.

“… Shit.”

 

0o0o0

 

After cleaning Adrien’s other arm, Tom and Sabine were made aware of the situation upstairs. Immediately, they called for an ambulance, asking why Marinette hadn’t told them as soon as Adrien found his way there. Calls were then made to Gabriel and the school. Tom managed to carry Adrien downstairs to the bakery, supporting his leg the best he could. Once the ambulance arrived, Adrien was carried out on a stretcher, Marinette holding his hand all the way. When they had to let go, Adrien still reached out for her, barely registering the thick doors that were closed between them.

Tom and Sabine held their daughter close, her father saying, “It’s going to be alright, Marinette. He’s a tough kid.”

 

0o0o0

 

Three skin grafts and five hours of surgery later, Adrien was sleeping soundly, his leg propped up in a sling. Well, as soundly as someone on anesthesia can sleep. Eventually, though, Adrien inevitably woke up, immediately noticing three of his limbs were immobile in casts. The next thing he noticed was a head of black hair shifting on his covers.

Smiling, Adrien whispered, “Hey there, sleepyhead.”

Marinette slowly woke up, eyes meeting Adrien’s before gradually widening.

Marinette smiled, saying, “I would tackle you into a hug, but I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t help with the whole, healing thing.”

Letting out a laugh, he immediately regretted any movement, as he said, “Yeah, I think that needs all the help it can get. Speaking of, do you still have it?”

Marinette nodded, holding up her hand to show the silver band resting on her thumb. Adrien had given her his Miraculous, so that on the off chance Hawkmoth knew to attack now, Adrien wouldn’t be able to give it to him. Not to mention that giving her a ring was good practice for lat– More important things, Adrien.

Adrien said, “Great. Plagg, we’re alone. I need to talk to you.”

From Marinette’s bag came a grumbling cat, rubbing his eyes of the remainders of his sleep. Yawning, Plagg flew over to rest on Adrien’s chest.

“Are you ready to apologize for burning through the suit, now?” Plagg asked.

Adrien rolled his eyes, saying, “Yes, Plagg, I’m glad to see you’re fine as well. It’s not like we died or anything back there.” Plagg simply shrugged at that, so Adrien marched on, saying, “Okay, I don’t know if you recognize what’s happening, but I can’t exactly go leaping across rooftops right now. But Paris needs Chat Noir”

Ears plastered to his skull, Plagg said, “Kid, please don’t do this.”

“It wouldn’t be forever,” Adrien assured, “just enough time for me to get better. That can be done, right?’

Plagg sighed, saying, “Hypothetically? Sure, absolutely, nothing’s easier. But once I share my power, that’s it. Neither of you would be able to use all of the Black Cat Miraculous at one time until one or both of you die. It’s not feasible.”

Taken aback, Adrien said, “Wow, that was… Surprisingly candid.”

Crossing his arms, Plagg said, “Don’t get used to it, I’m just trying to keep you from making a disastrous mistake. If you ever want to use the Black Cat ever again, it is completely, irrevocably, _stupid_ to split its power.”

Marinette whispered, “Plagg, quick, someone’s coming.”

The black blur whizzed back into her bag, just as the door was flung open. Stepping through, Adrien was shocked to see his father enter the room, clothes in disarray with frazzled hair. Without a word, Gabriel Agreste moved to Adrien’s side, brusquely grabbing his shoulders, and brought Adrien in for a tight hug. It would have most likely been painful were it not for the shock Adrien felt that his father appeared to actually care about him for once.

Pulling back, Gabriel wiped his bloodshot eyes before saying, “I’m glad your face was untouched, at least.”

“Ah, there it is,” Adrien thought.

Plowing on, Gabriel straightened his jacket before pulling out a schedule, saying, “We’ll have to work around your healing. Photoshoots are out of the question, but interviews could still be done. Perhaps we could put a positive spin on this for the papers.” Without even looking up, he asked, “You didn’t happen to get hurt saving someone, did you?”

Leaning back into his pillow, Adrien said, “No.”

Sighing, Gabriel said, “Of course not, you can’t even do that right.”

With a light twitch, Adrien took a deep breath before he said, “No, you don’t understand. I meant, no. No interviews, no photoshoots, never again. I’m done.”

That certainly caught Gabriel’s attention.

Turning to face his son, he asked, “Excuse me?”

Adrien closed his eyes as he said, “I can’t keep doing this, father. Every day blends into every month. Wake up to an empty home, eat breakfast alone, get driven to school, have the best hours of my life there, go to a photoshoot, go home, and sleep to do it all again the next day. The photoshoots, the interviews, the countless hours being used by everyone around me, it’s all for you. All to maintain this idyllic image you’ve painted for yourself.”

Simmering, Gabriel said, “Adrien, now is not the ti–”

Adrien interrupted his father, saying, “I died today.” Figuring he was already in too deep, Adrien met his father’s gaze. Taking Mr. Duval’s advice once again, Adrien began the countdown in his head.

60

“The Akuma found me today. It burned and dismembered me. I fell off of a building, broke my neck, and died. It was Ladybug who brought me back, and saved me. She also gave me something I’ve been needing; Perspective.”

45

“All this time, I’ve been trying to be something I’m not; a perfect Agreste heir. Someone who doesn’t talk back, does what he’s told, and aims to make his father happy, regardless of how much he wanted to get out.”

30

“But you wanna know what I got for it? Nothing. Years of lonely meals, not a single true friend, and on the rare occasions you graced me with your presence? It was only to remark on what I did wrong that day.”

15

“Hell, the only time I’ve been happy since Mom disappeared was when I finally disobeyed you and went to school! Oh, and school! The best friends I’ve ever had! People I hardly knew who loved me more than you ever did. You certainly showed that when you didn’t even bother getting me one of those stupid pens my last birthday. Tell me, was it your idea or Nathalie’s to convince me Marinette’s scarf was from you?” From his confusion, Adrien guessed it was Nathalie.

0

“The worst thing, though? I dreamt during the surgery. While they were trying to keep me alive and preserve what they could of my hands, do you want to know what I saw? I saw a rainy day, crowds of people in suits gathered over a casket. I saw you there,” Adrien pointed to him with his cast before continuing, “but you weren’t crying. My class was, Marinette was, hell, even Nathalie was crying. But no, you were talking, on your phone. You were trying to find the best way to angle my death to increase your sales for that quarter.” With a grimace, Adrien said, “And I wasn’t even surprised.”

-30

“So no, father. I won’t be doing your stupid interviews. I don’t care if I can do a jig tomorrow, I am never getting in front of a camera for you again. Kick me out, crucify me in the media, beat me, I don’t care. I’m done being your damn pawn.”

-60

Gabriel simply stood there, his lip a thin line. With his knuckles white at his sides, he turned to the door, resting a hand on its frame. Adrien thought he saw a shudder in his shoulders, but assumed it to be his imagination.

Straightening, Gabriel calmly said, “It is clear I have been far too lenient as of late. You will resume your lessons with Nathalie when you are fit to learn. Good night.”

With that, Gabriel left, the door swinging closed behind him. Adrien made a note to tell Mr. Duval that, sometimes, it’s wise to just keep your mouth shut. The room held a poignant silence for some time, neither truly certain what to say.

That is, until a black cat’s voice rang out from Marinette’s bag, saying, “… Well. Shit.”

Adrien and Marinette couldn’t agree more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've definitely seen the last of the backlash Gabriel's going to throw.
> 
> Definitely.
> 
> I mean, it's not like he's a raging egomaniac with control issues, right?
> 
> Right?


	10. Settling Dust

Their silence was broken by Marinette’s phone ringing. Checking, she saw Alya’s face staring at her. Checking with Adrien, Marinette answered the call.

“Oh, thank god you picked up.” Alya said, “I’ve been worried sick!”

Marinette said, “Woah, slow down. Why were you worried?”

Alya asked, “Uh, because the last time I saw you, you were in our classroom, staring down some kind of final boss shit. And now I hear that Adrien’s in the hospital?”

Nodding, Marinette said, “Yeah, I’m with him now. He had some nasty burns but–”

Interrupting her, Alya said, “Oh, they’re letting him have visitors so soon? Alright, that’s it, I’m dragging Nino down there. See you soon.”

With that, she hung up. It didn’t take long for Marinette to hear a loud voice behind the hospital walls, the door slamming open shortly after. Taking in the scene of Marinette resting her hand on Adrien’s shoulder, she seemed to hesitate before walking in.

Sighing, Alya said, “You would not believe the hoops I had to jump through to set up this meeting.”

Curious, Adrien said, “I thought visitor hours weren’t restricted here.”

“Hm? Oh, no, I’ve just been dying to use that line for ages,” Alya said.

Barreling in after her, Nino had to take a moment to accept what he was seeing. There was his best friend, strung up like a doll. Walking over, Nino found he couldn’t look away. Falling to his knees, Nino’s hands shook as he laid them over the cast on Adrien’s arm.

With a shaky breath, Nino asked, “Why didn’t you call me, bro? You know I’d be here in a heartbeat.”

Nodding, Adrien said, “I know, man. It’s all been a bit of a whirlwind, to be honest.”

Rising, Nino said, “Still, I’m glad you’re okay.” Nino smiled before he said, “I mean, without you school would just be a building, you know?”

Any traces of joviality died then. Adrien groaned, his head falling back onto his pillows, while Marinette just looked forlorn.

Alya asked, “… What? What happened?”

Adrien whispered, “My father is forcing me to go back to homeschooling.”

Nino blinked for a time, eventually deciding he had to have misheard as he asked, “What?”

At Adrien’s reluctance, Marinette took over, saying, “It’s true. Adrien stood up for himself, and said he wouldn’t model anymore. Gabriel decided a punishment was in order.”

Staring at the ceiling, Adrien said, “I’ll show him, though. There is no way in hell I’m getting trapped in that crypt again.”

Concerned, Alya asked, “Come on, it can’t be that bad at home, can it?”

The only response she received was a look of profound sorrow from Nino.

Paling, Alya rubbed the back of her neck, saying, “Oh geez, I’m sorry man. I didn’t know.”

Finally looking down from the ceiling, Adrien said, “I know. It’s okay, Alya, it’s just something I’ve been working through.” Giving a light chuckle, Adrien looked to Marinette as he said, “In fact, I didn’t really know anything was wrong until I was given some… perspective.”

Nino finally broke his silence, whispering, “This isn’t fair… This isn’t right.”

Adrien turned to his best friend, trying to reassure him as he said, “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. Like I said, my father has no way to keep me trapped there. Really, I was only staying there before to keep up appearances. Now that he knows how I feel about it all… I doubt there’s any reason for me to go back.” The last sentence was more of a personal realization than anything else, Adrien falling into deep thought.

After a moment, Adrien asked, “Nino, can I move in with you?”

Immediately, Nino sighed, saying, “No, bro.” At Adrien’s hurt expression, Nino rushed to add, “Trust me, I’ve thought about it. And I would love to have you as a roommate, you know that bro. But… My home-life isn’t that better than yours. Moving in with me would be like trading out a bed of nails for a hammock dangling over a bonfire. Sure, it’d be better, but that’s not saying much. I’m sorry, man.”

Joking, Alya said, “I bet Chloe would take you in.”

Adrien smirked, saying, “Yeah, I’m not even gonna touch that one. Alya… I would ask, but I don’t really know you that well.”

Waving her hand, Alya said, “No worries. Just from seeing your dad out there, mixed with what I’ve heard now, I want to take you out of there. But I can’t even convince my parents to invite Nino to dinner. I can guarantee that they will shoot down the idea before I can say, ‘Supermodel’”

“I might be able to do it.”

Everyone’s gaze locked on to the source of the small whisper. Marinette was blushing slightly, nervously wringing her shirt. She was keeping her eyes glued to Adrien’s sheets, not trusting her words just yet. 

When no interruptions came, she sighed, saying, “Look, I can’t promise anything, but my parents have been known to be more lenient than others. It’d still take some convincing, but this sounds like a rather dire situation.”

Adrien had a dreamy expression, whispering, “Living… With Marinette.”

Alya flicked his forehead, saying, “Down boy, it’s not a sure thing.”

Despite the flick, Adrien was currently imagining what it would be like to live with her. The lazy mornings in a warm home. Sitting for breakfast along a cramped table. Laughing at a joke told over coffee. Actually holding conversations with other people throughout the day. Helping around the shop, surrounded by the smell of baking bread. Cuddling on their couch under a blanket. Falling asleep without dreading the morning.

Who could ask for more?

Adrien finally said, “Yeah, that’d… That’d be great.”

Alya held up her hands saying, “Woah, timeout, are we sure that’s a good idea?” At the pair’s confusion, she continued, “You two are a couple now, right? How the hell would your parents be okay with that?”

Adrien deflated, saying, “You’re right, aren’t you? But, if I can’t move in with her, that leaves… Chloe.”

Marinette then stormed out of the room, phone in hand. Adrien asked, “Hey, where are you going?”

At the door, Marinette answered, “I’m going to fix this.”

As the door swung closed behind her, Alya whirled around to Adrien, saying, “Alright, spill.”

Jumping back slightly, Adrien asked, “Wh-what do you mean?”

Alya crossed her arms as she said, “Oh please, like you don’t know what I’m asking.”

Scrunching his eyebrows, Adrien said, “You… haven’t actually asked anything.”

Huffing, Alya asked, “How did you two end up together? All I’ve heard is that you two had talked it out, but hadn’t made any moves. What really happened?”

Adrien took a second to remind himself of the alibi Marinette had had him memorize. It was while she had been redressing his other arm, and was all but unheard through the haze of pain.

Thankfully, Adrien remembered enough to chuckle, saying, “It’s a funny story actually. We met online through a fashion forum. I go on those every now and again to see what I’m going to be forced to wear, and you can guess why Marinette frequents them. The site uses usernames, so we didn’t know who we were talking to. I knew Marinette as Miss M, and she knew me as Mister A. I corrected a misinformed designer who was about to strangle someone with a suit, and Miss M noticed. We then struck up a conversation that lasted a couple of months. I accidentally let it slip that I lived in Paris, and one thing led to another. We scheduled to meet up last night. I assume you heard how that went. That evening, we were about to let sleeping dogs lie, but neither of us could sleep. We actually found ourselves back on that forum, our conversation showing we were both online. So, we donned our masks once again, this time talking about the future.”

Tapping her forearm, Alya said, “So, when you admitted to liking someone else… You were talking about this Miss M? The Miss M that turned out to be Marinette?”

Adrien shrugged, asking, “Complicated isn’t it?”

Nodding, Alya said, “So you rejected Marinette… By choosing Marinette.” At Adrien’s nod, Alya continued, “Wow, that is messed up. But you two are together now? Going steady, as it were?”

Adrien smiled wistfully, slowly saying, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess we are.”

Nino said, “Careful Alya, don’t want to disturb him too much. The poor thing’s in love.”

Alya rolled her eyes, asking, “How would you know?”

Nino placed his hand on his chest, saying, “Wow. Harsh. I happen to know a thing or two about love, you know.”

The two began to lightheartedly bicker above Adrien’s bed. As they carried on, Adrien sunk back into his pillows, appreciated the feeling of normalcy. Letting his mind wander, he began imagining those warm mornings again. Of seeing the light filter through the windows, splayed out on a tight-knit home. Before he knew it, Adrien had fallen asleep, dreaming of the best life he could hope for.

 

0o0o0

 

“Absolutely not,” Tom’s voice rang out.

Marinette said, “Papa, please, you don’t know what it’s like at Adrien’s house.”

Tom sighed, saying, “You’re right, but you’re still talking about bringing Adrien Agreste into our home. Need I remind you who used to kiss his picture before bed every night?”

Blushing slightly, Marinette said, “No, and I’ve stopped doing that, thank you very much. But this isn’t about that. It’s about Gabriel Agreste being an insufferable control-freak who shouldn't be raising a child! He’s a terrible burden on Adrien! All he does is use him to further his own goals!”

Tom sighed, saying, “Sweetie, look, I don’t doubt you, okay? I trust your judgement, and you know that, but the fact of the matter is, we aren’t in a position to take that on.”

Marinette asked, “Why not? We’re not pressed for anything.”

Tom replied, “You’re right, we aren’t. Our family is in a good position. Adding another person to that is far more than adding a mouth to feed. I’m sorry, Marinette, but we can’t.”

 

0o0o0

 

Making her way back into Adrien’s room, Marinette wasn’t surprised to hear Alya and Nino arguing in a corner. However, as the door opened, they turned to see Marinette staring down at the floor, clutching her phone to her chest. Marinette gave a tight shake of her head, and the pair groaned in response, waking the sleeping boy between them. Blinking at his rude awakening, Adrien turned to Marinette.

Smiling, Adrien asked, “So, what’s the news?”

Marinette took a seat at Adrien’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder before quietly saying, “I’m sorry, Adrien.”

Three words. Three small words were all it took to shatter Adrien’s dream. He was faced with the cold reality of his house in his future. The bone-white marble. The cavernous echoes. The oppressive loneliness. For a time, Adrien had prided himself in being used to it. Now, after being taunted with such a bright alternative, Adrien found no such tolerance. Unable to bury his face in his arms, Adrien settled on turning to the side of his pillows, his tears flowing freely.

 

0o0o0

 

Stumbling up the stairs of her hotel, Chloe wracked her brain once again, wondering why she had this gap in her memory, and why it seemed strangely familiar. Taking a breath, she tried to retrace her steps. The last thing she remembered, she was angry at Marinette, that was nothing new, but something else happened… Adrien had been angry at her. Not just angry, venomous. She had talked with Mr. Duval, or, screamed at him about something. Then… Chat Noir was screaming. Nothing in between.

Sighing, Chloe opened the door to her suite, welcoming the familiar sight. Feeling the beginnings of a headache, Chloe moved to her bed to try and take a nap. That is, until she heard a soft crunch under foot. Looking down, Chloe saw a spread of small glass shards in her carpet, originating from a broken frame. A frame holding a picture of Adrien.

A memory returned then, scalding her thoughts until nothing else remained. A burning rage. Painful tears falling on a pane of glass. A single, raw, all-encompassing thought.

“MINE.”

As if she had just burned herself, Chloe jumped back from the picture, unable to take her eyes off of it. Her mind raced to connect the pieces. Something had happened. Something wrong. 

Holding her head, Chloe ran through possibilities. Had she passed out? No, that wouldn’t explain how she travelled across the city. Had she repressed something? But then, why were Ladybug and Chat Noir involved? Wait, why were they involved? They didn’t come out unless there was an…

Akuma.

Suddenly, Chloe understood why this was all so familiar. This gap in her mind. The unidentifiable ache in her muscles. The feeling of powerlessness. Hawkmoth had taken her again.

Chloe whispered, “… What have I done?”

Rushing to her computer, Chloe went to the one source she knew would have every angle she could want of the incident. The Ladyblog. Say what you will for her terrible fashion sense, that Alya girl had an eye for superheroes.

The top title caught her eye, reading, **“Lasting Damage: Sign of Things to Come?”**

With a trembling hand, Chloe opened the link. Skimming through the unnecessary text, Chloe found what she was really looking for; Pictures. What she had not expected, however, were pictures from a hospital room. Leaning back in her chair, Chloe put her hands in front of her mouth as she was faced with what she had done. There was Adrien, most of his limbs in casts, a black bruise around his neck, yet still smiling for the camera. Italicized text caught her eye from beneath the photo, before realizing it was a quote.

It read, _“I died today. When the Akuma attacked, I found myself burned from head to toe, my leg lying beside me. Although, it was a fall that actually did me in. Apparently, falling on your face from three stories isn’t good for one’s health, who knew? But, after it all, Ladybug saved me. I will bear these scars with joy, knowing that she’s still out there, saving everyone she can. Thank you, Ladybug, wherever you are.”_

She barely made it through the second line before silent tears began to fall.

Chloe then sat in a room that suddenly felt far too empty, as she whispered, “What have I done?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will this all mean for Chloe?
> 
> Will Adrien move in with her to escape his oppressive home?
> 
> Will I ever actually take a week off from posting this wildly diverting fic?
> 
> Tune in next time to find out.


	11. We Need to Talk

The next morning, Adrien felt surprisingly comfortable in his hospital bed. His windows faced the sunrise, so shafts of light filtered in, bathing the room in a golden gleam. His limbs felt restless, but that was nothing new. The smell of disinfectant was still rather off-putting, but his sheets were warm, the room was quiet, and he wasn’t locked in his house yet. The painkillers were helping his mood too, but he convinced himself it was to a lesser extent.

_Maybe this time…_

Adrien was about to settle in for some much needed rest, when the door slammed open, jolting him awake. Adrien turned to the door and was shocked to see a frazzled Mr. Duval, panting from running through the halls. Moving in, Mr. Duval beckoned to the hallway, the entirety of Adrien’s class pushing their way into the suddenly cramped space. Marinette was the first to make her way to the bed, giving him a light hug.

A smile plastered on his face, Adrien asked, “What’s all this?”

Mr. Duval shrugged, saying, “I figured a field trip was long overdue. I let everyone else choose where to go, and we all agreed. Disneyworld. But we couldn’t afford that, so we came here.” He finished with a smile, receiving a light hit from Nino for the jibe.

Adrien said, “Thanks guys, but you really didn’t have to.”

Alix scoffed, saying, “Please, picture perfect model Agreste finally mussed up a little? No way were we missing that.”

“Oh, dude, are these yours?” Max asked, flipping through MRI images on a side table.

Adrien nodded, saying, “Yeah, they needed to take a look at my leg. Make sure everything was in working order, as it were. Thankfully, the muscles were reconnected, but the bones need some time. Turns out, even Ladybug has limits when you throw in death.”

A quiet tension fell over the room, the reality of the situation hitting most gathered for the first time.

Chloe was the first to break the silence. Standing in the back with her arms crossed, she asked, “What happened? Really?”

Picking up on the quiet question, Adrien looked to the back wall, furrowing his brow at its source. He tried to play it off with a lighthearted shake of his head, saying, “Oh, you guys don’t need to hear that. I mea–”

“Yes. I do.” Chloe said. Her eyes locked with Adrien’s, an insistent plead behind them.

After a moment, Adrien sighed, saying, “Alright… I’m pretty sure the Akuma was after me, specifically. I mean, no one else got hurt like I was. I’ve been wracking my brain as to who I might have hurt enough to justify it, but I’m coming up with a blank. And she didn’t even say anything, that was the weirdest thing. Where other Akumas practically perform sonnets to share their schemes, this one never said a word around me. After leaving the classroom, I ran up to higher ground, looking for something, anything to help. When I ran in front of a window, I saw her. The Akuma floated towards me, her face hidden through it all. She melted through the window, and I should have run… I should have…” Adrien didn’t need to fake the tears that welled behind his eyes as he said, “She burned me. She took her time, marking me with some kind of sword. I tried to escape… That was when she took my leg.” Taking a shaky breath, he ignored the concerned pain on everyone’s faces as he plowed on, saying, “I was looking for a way out. Any way out. The doors were too far, but the window wasn’t. So, I weighed the odds. Continue the torture, or take my chances with a freefall. Next thing I knew, the ground was rushing up to meet me.” The tears began to fall as he said, “Before I knew it, I heard a pop, felt an endless pressure on my neck… Then nothing.” Ignoring the protest of his arm, Adrien wiped his eyes, tightly smiling as he said, “But, I got better. Ladybug saved me.”

Throughout his story, Chloe had been trying to remember anything from the time she was an Akuma. Most of what he was saying made sense, but parts of it didn’t feel quite right. Regardless, hearing even a partial reality of her actions was enough to bring her to tears. Choking back a sob at his description of death, Chloe screwed her eyes shut with her hand over her mouth.

Eventually trusting her voice, Chloe yelled out, “Okay, everyone out! I need to be alone with Adrien!”

Marinette, who had yet to leave Adrien’s side, shot her a cold look. However, she stopped with a light bump from Adrien, who appeared curious, but wary. With a tight nod, Adrien turned his attention back to the blonde girl.

Insisting further, Chloe managed to remove everyone but the two of them. With a quiver in her shoulders, Chloe kept her head down as she made her way to the chair beside Adrien’s bed. Sitting down, Chloe took a moment to stare at his right leg. She began to reach forward, before recoiling as if she were burned.

Settling to grip the sheets of his bed, Chloe couldn’t hold back her tears as she said, “I’m so sorry Adrien… I– This is all my fault.”

Straining to sit up, Adrien asked, “Woah, what do you mean?”

Chloe hung her head in her hands, whispering, “I… I was the Akuma.”

“I know.”

Her tears stopped at his immediate response. Slowly raising her gaze to meet his, all she saw was the soft smile he wore. Her shock at his expression broke through whatever sorrow she held. She had expected hurt, anger, pure hatred, anything but the acceptance she saw.

Chuckling, Adrien said, “I mean, your hair was a bit of a giveaway.”

Blinking, Chloe ignored the silent tears falling down her cheeks, as she asked, “You… You’re not mad at me?”

He shrugged, saying, “Why would I be? Hawkmoth’s to blame. I know what it is to lose control over your life. There is no way in hell I would hold that against you.” After a pause, he added, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” She asked.

Adrien said, “Whatever you were thinking that drew his attention.”

Chloe flinched at his grasp of the situation. It made sense, of course. It was no secret that Adrien was potentially the biggest Ladybug fan in their school, if not Paris, so it would stand to reason that he would do research on her enemies as well. Namely, how these Akuma are formed, apparently. She broke their gaze then, wondering how honest she should be. Eventually, she remembered a promise she had made to herself last night, that if the opportunity came, she would tell him the truth. Groaning, she slumped back in her chair, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

After collecting her thoughts, she said, “I was angry. At Mr. Duval. At Marinette. At you. It felt like the world was being swept out from under me. All this time, I thought we would end up together… But you chose her. One act, and everything was gone. I was bitter, and lonely, and wanted you back. Haw–… He picked up on that. I guess he amplified all of it. But… After seeing you here, I spent all of last night thinking. Mr. Duval’s words kept ringing in my head, ‘What claim do you have?’ He was talking about my outburst, but… really, I have no claim. I’ve just assumed… But, here we are.” The tears were coming back as she said, “And now, I don’t know. You chose her, and I’m just here.” Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she asked, “You did choose her, right? This isn’t just some ploy of hers, is it?”

Chloe stared into his eyes, searching for any dishonesty as he said, “Chloe… I love her.”

Chloe closed her eyes, sorrow falling over her like a blanket. Rising from the seat, she made her way to the entrance, willing away any tears that might break through. She was stopped, however, as soon as she reached for the doorknob.

“Wait!” Adrien called, saying, “Please, Chloe. I know you’re hurting, and that it’s partly his fault, but… Please don’t take this out on Mr. Duval.”

Any fleeting hopes were dashed as she gripped the doorknob, her knuckles a stark white. Giving a tight nod, she threw the door open, moving into the hallway. As she almost ran into the group of her classmates, Chloe locked eyes with Marinette, who still seemed rather closed off at her presence.

Ignoring the rest of their class, Chloe stepped directly in front of Marinette as she said, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what changed. But I swear to you; if you hurt him, I will do everything in my considerable power to make your life a living hell.” With that, Chloe walked away, waving off a concerned Mr. Duval.

Marinette could have sworn she saw a shine on Chloe’s cheeks, but it must have been a trick of the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amazing what seeing your love interest dismembered and undead by your own hand can do to your objections of another relationship.
> 
> In all honesty, I had planned for a longer acceptance period for Chloe, but the more I thought about it, the more likely it would be that she would become an Akuma through this. And that she would wreak major havoc. And that if any remnants remained, she would beat herself up immeasurably. And that it made sense that she would grow because of it.
> 
> So... Yeah. Here we are.


	12. Cheesy Cable & Other Terrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back.
> 
> Back again.
> 
> This shit's back.
> 
> Tell a friend.

Not long after Adrien’s conversation with Chloe, the class needed to head back to their school, the rest of the day starting soon. For half the day, Adrien was left alone in his room, a muffled drama playing on the TV on the far wall. He had made attempts to change the channel, but all he had done was knock the remote to the floor. With a sigh, Adrien resigned himself to what was apparently a marathon of the series, terrible tropes unfolding before his eyes. Overtime, Adrien began piecing the story together. It appeared to him that a pair of friends held feelings for each other, but didn’t move on them so they didn’t disrupt the friendship they had built. Yet, nightly it seemed, they unknowingly met at a masquerade, domino masks hiding their identities to everyone but the audience.

It took a moment for Adrien to wrap his head around the dynamics, but eventually he said, “So, wait… Bridgette loves Felix, who happens to be the masked dancer Tigre, who loves his dance partner Abeille, who just so happens to be Bridgette…Yeah, as if that could ever happen. Their masks aren’t even that good!”

Before he could comment further on the absurdity that was this love – Was it proper to call it a square? It was just two people – polygon, a far more interesting subject grabbed his attention. The door cracked open, a piercing blue eye inspecting the room. Seeing Adrien was awake, Marinette came into the room, making sure the door was closed before almost falling on Adrien with a hug.

Most of his breath escaping, Adrien managed to groan, “Ooooooooooooooow.”

Recoiling, Marinette stammered, “Sorry, sorry, I just, um…” After a moment’s hesitation, Marinette bent down, bumping their foreheads together as she said, “I missed you.”

Blinking, Adrien whispered, “… What was I saying?”

With a smile, she said, “Sap.”

“Tease.”

The turn of phrase slipped out of Adrien before he had time to think. Both of their eyes shot open, suddenly rather conscious of how close they were on the bed. A memory clamored to be compared to, something about pink sheets, but neither could muster the wherewithal to do anything but backpedal.

Marinette faced most of the burden there. Standing up straight, her cheeks burned as she asked, “Wow, what are you watching?”

Thankful for the distraction, he said, “Oh, uh, it’s this weird show. I think it was called L’abeille Dansante? It’s just on cause I can’t change the channel.”

Noticing the block of plastic on the floor, Marinette asked, “Is that the remote?”

“Mmhmm.”

“How the hell did it get over there?” She asked, as it had landed a solid four feet away from the bed.

“Dexterous toes,” was all the answer Adrien gave, wiggling his unburdened left foot.

After a pause, Adrien added, “Speaking of… Would you mind doing something a little weird?”

Preparing for the worst, Marinette asked, “… What do you mean?”

“Could you put my ring on my foot?” He sheepishly asked. “I feel naked without it. And if Hawkmoth was going to attack, he’s had plenty of opportunities. Besides, the doctors say my arms should be good to leave the casts tomorrow if I’m lucky, so I can move it from there.”

Shaking her head of possibilities and a twinge of disappointment, Marinette said, “Uh, sure, can do.”

Marinette walked to the foot of the bed, taking off the silver band from her thumb. Strange, she hadn’t expected to get used to its weight so quickly. Regardless, she pressed the cold ring to his largest toe, the band expanding to fit.

“Have I mentioned how convenient it is to have magic jewelry?” Adrien asked.

Chuckling, Marinette said, “Speak for yourself. Can you imagine if my ears weren’t pierced before I got Tikki?”

Taken aback, Adrien said, “Huh. I honestly hadn’t thought of that.”

“I have.” Marinette said, “I asked Tikki about it once. Her answer involved a sewing needle.” Finishing with a shudder, she moved to the chair beside Adrien’s bed.

They stayed there for a time, content to watch the terrible scenarios played out in front of them. The scene had shifted to a point where Tigre was visiting Bridgette, apparently at the behest of Abeille. Something about moving on, and choosing a woman within reach, or something.

After a full episode, Marinette whispered, “There is no way that would happen. I mean, how the hell do they not recognize each other? It’s a domino mask!”

“That’s what I said!”

“… Wait, is this a marathon?”

“Appears to be.”

“… Awesome.”

 

0o0o0

 

"I bet you a button they don't recognize how close this series is to their lives," Plagg said.

With a light laugh, Tikki answered, "Oh, you are so on."

 

0o0o0

 

Three more episodes aired that night, the pair laughing along at the antics these characters went through to preserve their identities, albeit accidentally. Eventually, though, the marathon ended, the sun having set long ago. Marinette finally made the effort needed to stand up and pick up the remote, groaning the whole time. That is, putting on enough of a show that Adrien couldn’t help but laugh.

_God, I love that sound._

After flipping through a few channels, though, she realized that L’abeille Dansante had been the only good thing on. Settling to turn the TV off for now, Marinette instead took up a hobby that she had been slacking on as of late: Adrien-watching. Folding her arms on the bed, Marinette rested her head on them, gazing wistfully up at Adrien.

She thought, “He’s been in this bed for how long now? How the hell is his hair still perfect? And those eyes should not be allowed to shine like that. It totally contrasts the bags under his– Wait, what?”

Her dreamy expression turned concerned, as she asked, “Adrien, what’s wrong?”

Confused, Adrien asked, “What do you mean?”

“You have bags under your eyes.” She reached up then, trying not to be discouraged when he flinched away. She delicately placed her hand on his cheek, running her thumb over the light blue skin. She added, “You’ve never had those before, even after late patrols.”

Adrien tried to think of an excuse as he said, “Oh, uh, yeah, I did actually. It’s just that father always made me wear concealer for it. Public image, and all that.”

Still concerned, Marinette seemed to take his word for it. Adrien tried to not let his relief show.

Adrien added, “Although, I gotta say, I’m pretty sure Plagg helped me stay awake those days. I’ve just been feeling lethargic without the ring, but as soon as you put it on, bam! Like five cups of coffee.” Well, it was closer to three, but over exaggeration was 95% of his humor.

Distracted by a Miraculous mystery, Marinette said, “Huh, that would actually explain a few things. Like, how I can sew until four in the morning, and still make it to school.”

Raising his eyebrow, Adrien asked, “Four?”

Marinette simply shrugged, saying, “When inspiration hits, I’ve learned to just roll with it.” Tapping her chin, she added, “Although, we could just solve this mystery right now. Tikki?” She called, opening her small bag.

A groggy voice emerged, squeaking, “Yes, Marinette? What do you need?”

As Tikki floated up, rubbing her eyes, Marinette said, “Huh, I don’t think I’ve seen you sleep in the day before.”

Still squinting, Tikki pointed to the windows, the moon in clear view.

“Oh. Time got away from me.”

Adrien said, “We actually had a question concerning the Miraculous.”

A series of emotions played over Tikki’s face. First, she raised her arm, turning away from Adrien, a remark forming on her lips. Next, realization struck, a twitch running through her small form. Her eyes widened in shock, a quiver forming in her arm. Before either could stop her, a resounding slap rang out, the small Kwami trying to right some internal wrong.

Marinette hurriedly reached out, cupping her as she asked, “What was that?”

Tikki rubbed her cheek saying, “Sorry. I was about to say, ‘Go ask Plagg,’ and fall back to sleep. He’s rubbing off on me. Tried to knock some sense into myself.” In response to her charge’s concern, Tikki added, “I’m fine Marinette, honest. In fact, that woke me up rather thoroughly. I think I know what it is, but what was your question?”

Adrien said, “Well, it actually has to do with that. Do the Miraculous help us stay awake?”

Aghast, Tikki turned to Adrien asking, “… Seriously? After what you two just spent two hours watching, that’s your question?” Throwing her arms up, she said, “Yes, we help you stay awake. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I owe someone a button.”

Tikki then flew back into her bag, a rather satisfied laugh welcoming her. Marinette brought the bag up, asking, “What have you two been doing in there?”

Plagg shielded his eyes from the sudden lights above saying, “Talking.”

Adrien said, “What do you mean? We haven’t heard anything.”

Plagg rolled his eyes before answering, “Not with our mouths, duh.”

Marinette shared a look of confusion with Adrien before daring to ask, “Then, how have you two been talking?”

Plagg turned to his side, settling back down before he said, “Same way we always do. Sleeping.”

Tikki swatted his shoulder, saying, “It’s a good deal more than that, and you know it.” Looking back to Marinette she explained, “Think of it this way–”

Tikki was cut off with a groan, Plagg saying, “If you’re gonna explain it, can you at least do it out there?”

“Nope,” Tikki answered. Soldiering on, she said, “As I was saying. How we normally talk is close to the way you humans dream. We devote a section of our minds and energies to the ether, which we use to travel and communicate. It’s the same way we enter the Miraculous, just on a smaller scale. To transform our charge, we completely dissolve our physical forms, devoting everything we have to the ether. For a Dreamwalk, or Astral Call, if you prefer, we merely transplant our consciousness. Certain humans have been able to replicate it in the past, but never to meet with another. Plagg and I, we… share a distinct bond, which allows us to find each other in the ether. Otherwise, it’s like being lost at sea.”

After a pause, Adrien said, “Holy shit, you’re Plagg’s good authority.”

“What?” Tikki and Marinette asked in unison.

Smiling, Adrien asked, “Hey Plagg, I’m right, aren’t I?”

Plagg groaned, “Yes, congrats, my direct line to Ladybug is how I knew how she was feeling. Figure that out all by yourself?”

At Marinette’s continued confusion, Adrien explained, “It was before we revealed each other. When Plagg said it wasn’t against the rules on Friday, I was pretty much prepared to find Ladybug that night and spill everything. Plagg convinced me you weren’t ready to hear it.”

Remembering the ice cream clogged sleepover, Marinette said, “Yeah, that was a good idea. Thanks, Plagg.”

“Don’t mention it.” Plagg said. Tikki began ticking off seconds with her arm, not at all surprised when Plagg added, “Seriously, don’t. It’d ruin my image.”

Scoffing, Tikki asked, “What image? A cheese loving sloth?”

Without even raising his head, Plagg corrected, “That’s Mr. Cheese Loving Sloth to you, Tikki.”

Their laughter was cut off by an alarm on Marinette’s phone. Holding it up, her shoulders slumped, saying, “I’m sorry, Adrien. I promised Mama I would help close up the shop tonight. Are you okay if I head out?”

Forcing the tips of his lips to rise, Adrien said, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Good night, Marinette.” Yet, as she stood to make her way out, Adrien added, “Actually, there is one thing, before you go.”

Beaming down at him, she asked, “Yes?”

He didn’t have to fight at all for the smile on his lips as he said, “Kiss me again.”

Both their hearts skipped a beat at the open request. The simple thought that they could just do that now, whenever they wanted, hadn’t really sunken in yet. Still, Marinette leaned down, trying to channel some Ladybug courage as she cupped both sides of Adrien’s face. Trying to extend the moment, Marinette stared into his eyes, trying to convey her thoughts when words would fail them. Convinced her point got across, Marinette closed her eyes, closing the short distance before they kissed once again.

Adrien, for his part, was having trouble staying still. His inner monologue consisted of, “Holy shit I just asked her to kiss me. Holy shit, she didn’t say no. Holy shit, she’s staring at me. Should I do something? Is she waiting for me? She’s definitely waiting for me, I should–” before it was cut off by the kiss. As soon as their lips met, his mind held nothing but white noise. His worries ground to a halt in the face of her sweet affection. To be so wanted, so appreciated, so loved, was still reeling to the poor boy.

Reluctantly, they had to surface for air at some point. Adrien fell back on his pillows in euphoria, hardly able to withstand a single kiss. Blushing furiously, Marinette put a piece of paper on the bedside table, leaving in a rush. Turning his head to the sheet, Adrien saw a list of ten numbers, several hearts scattered throughout.

Connecting the dots, Adrien smiled, whispering to the empty room, “Wow,” before he finally, thankfully, fell asleep.

 

0o0o0

 

Adrien woke up to an inferno.

He bolted upright, throwing his covers off. His hospital room was bathed in flames, columns of orange fire engulfing every wall around him.

His eyes suddenly caught movement, and he immediately fell into a fighting stance, months of battle hardwiring his nerves. Directly in front of him, the flames parted, a lithe form stepping through. Her bare feet padded on the tiled floor, ribbons of silk dragging behind her. Despite the mask she wore, Adrien could clearly see her smile, baring her teeth as if a beast.

“Plagg, transform me!” Adrien called.

Yet nothing answered.

“Plagg! Akuma!” He called again.

A light, feminine laugh echoed off of the walls, the woman still walking treacherously slow to his bed.

“Plagg! I need y–”

He was cut off when, in a dash of blinding speed, the Akuma had knocked him back on the bed, one searing palm splayed on his chest. He began to smell burning cloth, light flames licking between her fingers.

He tried once more, yelling, “Plagg!”

The only response he heard was the Akuma’s light laughter. Pressing down with her right hand, she grabbed hold of his right ankle with her left.

Her laughter continuing behind her, Chloe said, “This doesn’t belong to you.”

Keeping Adrien in place, the Akuma began to pull. It was light, at first, hardly a tug, but she slowly increased the pressure. When his knee popped, she merely smiled. When his bones broke under her grip, she laughed. When the flesh of his leg began tearing apart, she brought her mask up to his ear.

Wiping away his tears, Chloe whispered, “Mine.”

Unable to think. Unable to scream. The pain was beyond anything he had ever known. His rational mind having left first, he felt a rush of relief when she tossed the broken limb into the fire, the smell of burning flesh filling the room. Maybe she got what she wanted. Maybe she would leave.

Any hopes of that were dashed when she turned back to Adrien, and merely replaced her right hand on his chest with her bloodied left.

“We won’t be interrupted this time,” She whispered, taking hold of his left leg.

Realization finally taking hold, fresh tears welled in his eyes, spilling silently. Closing his eyes, Adrien threw his head back, letting out one final, desperate, scream.

 

“LADYBUG!”

 

“Adrien, wake up!”

Adrien’s eyes flew open, waking up in a cold sweat. He had to take a moment to adjust, and realize that no, his room was not on fire. No, Chloe was not an Akuma. No, his leg was not currently cooking by the wall. Yes, Plagg was still slapping him.

“Geez, do you want to wake up the entire building?” Plagg grumbled.

Moving his head to avoid another Kwami slap, Adrien peered over to the digital clock on the bedside table. It had only been two hours since Marinette had left, and Adrien felt like shit. To put it mildly.

Plagg whispered, “What the hell was that? You just started screaming your head off! The hell kind of dream makes you scream?”

Adrien didn’t need to remember his nightmare. He had seen it so many times by then, he could write and direct a short film based off of it. Every time he tried to sleep, there she was, waiting to strike. Her eyes forever hidden. Her laughter ringing off the walls. The pain. God, the pain. He had been avoiding it all for nearly twenty hours by then. He found that even Miraculous holders had limits when it came to sleep.

When no answer came, Plagg sighed, saying, “Look, just, don’t hold this over me, okay? This never happened.”

Confused, Adrien almost recoiled when Plagg flew up to his forehead. Settling there, Plagg curled into a ball, a recurring rumble emanating from him.

Blinking, Adrien asked, “Plagg, are you purring?”

“No, shut up.” Plagg said, “I’m using the ether to impose calming thoughts over your mind. It’s hard to do, so quiet down and go to sleep.”

Adrien was actually touched, saying, “Wow, Plagg, uh… Thanks.”

Plagg groaned, saying, “We’ve already covered this, don’t mention it, it never happened. Geez, if Tikki knew about this I wouldn’t hear the end of it. Now,” He slapped Adrien’s forehead before adding, “sleep.”

Later, Adrien would assume it was magic. Plagg would deny it ever happened. But the truth was, when Plagg slapped him again, Adrien immediately fell asleep, feeling at ease for the first time in days. Plagg’s purring quieted Adrien’s mind, the evening’s dreamless rest a welcome sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have officially broken 100 pages of Collège De Rock!!!
> 
> It definitely hasn't diverted wildly from what I first thought!
> 
> I mean, it's not like I originally planned for the band to have already performed, right?
> 
> That'd be silly.


	13. Therapeutic Distractions

This was it. Adrien was sick of this bed. At some point in the evening, he had turned his head at an awkward angle, resulting in a deep ache for the morning. Sitting up, Adrien was glad to find that that hurt less this morning. He tried to pop his neck to alleviate some of the pressure, but all it seemed to do was aggravate it. With a groan, Adrien sunk back to his pillows, thankful when the door opened for breakfast.

Carting in a tray of food, the nurse sighed, saying, “You know you’re not supposed to sit up like that. Your sides are still healing.”

Remembering with painful accuracy where the doctors had taken the skin for his grafts, Adrien sighed, saying, “I know, Jacqueline. I can’t help it, I’m restless.”

With a nod, she set up the tray up on Adrien’s bed. Pulling up the chair to his side, she said, “That’s understandable. Did you know, I once shattered my femur? I was bedridden for weeks, so, I know where you’re coming from. But, happy news, your hands should be healed up enough to let you start physical therapy! We’re getting the cutter ready, but for now, say aah.”

Her upbeat tone would be jarring to Adrien, were it not for the fact that he was still in the rush of true rest. The two of them had built a rapport over the past couple of days. Since Adrien couldn’t properly feed himself, and Gabriel had more money than practical sense, he had ordered his son away from an IV drip, stating it would ruin his figure. The obvious solution was to hire one of the nurses to feed his meals to him. As if Gabriel hadn’t spoon-fed him enough over the years. Thankfully, Jacqueline was good company, at least.

While Adrien chewed on the morsel, she asked, “So, I see that cute girl with the pigtails pretty often. Anything happening there?”

Thankful for the pause table-manners awarded him, rather than merely nodding and going about his day, Adrien actually thought about the question. However, whatever he was expecting when looking into his emotions, a circular pattern of thought was not it. Marinette was his girlfriend. Adrien was her boyfriend. They were in a relationship. An actual, mutual relationship. _LADYBUG WAS HIS GIRLFRIEND._

Eventually, it sunk through even his thick skull.

His gaze became cloudy, joy apparent on his face as he whispered, “Oh my god, I have a girlfriend.”

She laughed at that, preparing another bite as she said, “Yeah, I’ve been there. First one, right?” Adrien could only nod, a goofy smile splitting his face, so she continued, “I knew it, I know that look. I had the exact same face when I noticed.”

Pausing at her vague wording, Adrien asked, “Noticed what?”

“That I was in love, of course.” She said, a knowing smile on her face.

She made use of his dumbstruck, slack jawed face to feed him another bite.

 

0o0o0

 

As soon as the door clicked closed, Plagg said, “Man, I thought she’d never leave.”

With a roll of his eyes, Adrien said, “Be nice, Plagg. Her being here means food. Be thankful I can hide some under my cast.”

At that, he lifted his arm, revealing a plate of cheese he had managed to hide when Jacqueline wasn’t looking. Swooping down, Plagg took a large bite out of one of the wedges. What started as contented chewing changed to quiet shock. Slowly, he opened his mouth, a mound of half-eaten cheese landing on the plate with a wet flop.

Staring at the cheese left in his hands, Plagg said, “What. Is. This.”

Adrien said, “Swiss, I’m pretty su–”

“No, I know what this is,” Plagg interrupted. Dropping the rest of the wedge, he continued, “It’s an insult!” Flying up to point an accusatory nub at Adrien’s nose, he demanded, “Where is my Camembert?”

Squinting at his Kwami, Adrien said, “We’re in a hospital. You weren’t the one who needed to convince them to give me plain cheese with my meals. I couldn’t exactly ask for one of the more expensive varieties. I’m already getting a lot with spoon fed meals, regardless of whether or not I want them.”

“That’s no excuse!” Cried the Kwami. “I can’t live off of, of, Swiss! I’d rather starve to nothing!”

“Good, ‘cause those are your two options. Either eat Swiss for the remaining, what, day I’m in here? Or get nothing until I go home.” Adrien said. He finished by whispering, “If I go home.”

Rather than press at Adrien’s wording, Plagg simply floated there for a time. With a sigh, he hung his head, floating down to the insulting plate. He began to eat in small bites, grumbling all the while.

In an attempt to distract him, Adrien said, “Hey Plagg, something’s been bothering me.”

Keeping his back to Adrien, Plagg said, “If you’re about to get sentimental, I can’t help you.”

“No, I know that.” Adrien said, “I was actually going to ask about Miraculous Cure. Why didn’t it work like normal?”

Waving his arm dismissively, Plagg said, “That’s a question for Tikki. She’d explain it better.”

Nodding, Adrien said, “Probably true. But Tikki isn’t here.”

With a sigh, Plagg asked, “What do you want to know?”

Taking a moment to plan his question, Adrien eventually asked, “Why am I still healing? I mean, Ladybug has fixed worse than this before. What changed?”

Finally turning around, Plagg answered, “Short answer? You did. Tell me, what do you think Tikki’s abilities are?”

With a raised eyebrow, Adrien guessed, “Uh, Lucky Charm and Miraculous Cure, right?”

Shaking his head, Plagg said, “Those are Ladybug’s powers. Tikki is a completely different creature. She is a Kwami of creation and prosperity. As a result, she is naturally lucky and good natured. Explain Miraculous Cure to me.”

Curious, Adrien said, “Ladybug uses her Lucky Charm to fix damage done by an Akuma.”

Waving his arm, Plagg corrected, “You missed an important step. The Lucky Charm breaks apart into energy. That energy then fixes changes made surrounding Ladybug’s transformation. There’s more to it, context and all, but that’s the basics. Now tell me, what part of Tikki’s abilities makes you think she can do that?”

Furrowing his brow, Adrien guessed, “Prosperity? That would fix everything. But wait, what breaks the Lucky Charm? According to you, Tikki can’t do that.”

“Hmm, I wonder…” Plagg said, innocently tapping his chin.

Noticing the gesture, Adrien asked, “You break it?”

With a shrug, Plagg said, “When it’s needed, yeah. You should ask your friend Nino about the record he got on your birthday.” Waving off Adrien’s confused expression, Plagg soldiered on, saying, “To answer your original question, I was fighting against a dying teenager to break the Lucky Charm, so it wasn’t my best work. The Lucky Charm is a Kwami construct, like your baton or your suits. The only things we’ve found that can break them are other Kwami constructs, or Kwami themselves. And trust me, with how long Tikki and I have been around, if we haven’t seen it, it probably doesn’t exist.”

“Wait, how old are you two? You’ve never said.” Adrien asked.

Plagg crossed his arms, and with a gameshow buzzing sound said, “Sorry, you’ve gotten all you’re getting from me today. Although, that might change with some Camembert?” At Adrien’s deadpan expression, Plagg slumped his shoulders, saying, “It was worth a shot.”

Just then, Plagg’s ears perked at a click from the door, forcing him to dash across the room, the plate of cheese held clumsily on his head. Thankfully, nothing spilled or shattered as he settled into a cabinet on the other side of the room. Looking to the door, it was Jacqueline, a giddy smile on her face. Contrasted somewhat harshly by the large chainsaw held in her hands.

“Who’s ready to get cutting?” She cried, revving the saw.

Her eyes were closed the whole time, so she couldn’t see Adrien blanch at the sight. Though, she did hear him scream. And fall off the bed. And groan very loudly.

 

0o0o0

 

“I’m sorry again, Adrien.” Jacqueline said, sitting to Adrien’s left. On his other side, another nurse was using a much smaller saw to cut into Adrien’s cast. He had been called in to help Adrien back into his bed, and took it upon himself to handle the cutting process.

“In hindsight,” Jacqueline began, “it was funnier in my head.”

“A lot of things are,” muttered the other nurse under his breath.

Adrien said, “It’s okay Jacqueline, honest. Just… Don’t tell my father. It took me by surprise, but he would drop a lawsuit on you faster than you can say chainsaw.”

She laughed at that, but quickly sobered up when no one else did.

Looking to his left, Adrien caught sight of Marinette’s note on the table. “Oh, right,” Adrien said, “Jacqueline, is my phone still here from when I was brought in?”

Thinking for a second, she nodded, saying, “Yeah, it should still be in collections. Why?”

“Because as soon as my hands are free, I have a message to send.”

 

0o0o0

 

Marinette flipped over her notebook once again, beginning a new line of notes. She had taken it upon herself to write down every word her teachers said, with the plan to surprise Adrien with her notes at the end of the week. If you cannot bring the student to the collège, bring the collège to the student. Trivial questions such as how to bring said notes to Adrien were Future Marinette’s problems. In reality, it was just something to keep her mind off of the empty seat in front of her.

Halfway down the new page, a sudden clamor informed her that class had ended. Looking up, she saw students clumping together, the standard groups congregating for lunch. Chloe and Sabrina were the first ones out the door, followed by Kim and Max. Mylene was closely followed by Rose and Juleka. Alya had actually struck up a conversation with a melancholy Nino, and was trying to cheer him up by agreeing to being a guinea pig for his music, so they were probably going to be busy until their next class. Looking behind her, Marinette saw the three remaining classmates, Ivan, Alix, and Nathaniel, huddled over his desk in a hushed conversation.

Just as she began to wonder if she should leave, Nathaniel noticed her staring, saying with a start, “O-oh, Marinette. Hi… What are you still doing in here?”

Suddenly self-conscious under the gaze of the interrupted trio, she said, “Just haven’t put up my books yet. What are you three talking about?”

Ivan moved to answer, but Alix preempted him by saying, “We’re trying to decide whether or not to invite your boy toy to our meetings.”

Ivan held his forehead, grumbling, “Alix, what part of need to know…”

Marinette, for her part, was trying to decide whether to pale like a sheet, or burst into flames. Instead, she just stammered out, “But, he’s not, that isn’t. Boy toy? No, not gonna go there. Meetings?”

Ivan sighed, figuring there was no real way to hide it now, saying, “Akuma meetings. We started them shortly after Alix became Timebreaker. Usually,” he paused to shoot a look at Alix before continuing, “we only tell people who have been Akumas. It keeps it tightknit.”

Alix added, “Although, with how many of us have been Akumas, it can become more of a study group sometimes.”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes as he said, “Regardless of what we do, it’s a safe place where we can voice our troubles. Surprisingly, when a megalomaniac takes over your faculties, things tend to resurface.”

Apparently, that was some recurring joke among them, as they started laughing under their breath. Marinette, for her part, was adamantly trying to hide her white knuckles on her seat. To hear that her classmates were going through all of this, all under her nose, personally undermined everything she had done as Ladybug. She had always assumed that the memory wipe would help them move on from their Akuma actions, but it apparently didn’t help at all.

Still, her pause was becoming suspicious, so she rushed to say, “That’s… Good, I guess? But, what does that have to do with Adrien?”

Alix answered, “Boy toy?” Marinette honestly threw up a prayer that that did not become a thing, Alix marching on with, “Well, when we started the group, we wanted it to be of likeminded folk. People with lasting wounds, looking for a place to heal. Since Ladybug fixes everything most of the time, that list has stayed pretty solidly in Akuma territory, but Adrien poses a new question to the mix. I figure if anyone needs some help understanding Akuma, it’s the boy with actual wounds.”

Nathaniel chimed in, “While I think him being there would just cause grief. He’s the most likely Parisian to actually hold a grudge against us already. I mean, he’s the only person we’ve ever heard of to have repercussions.”

“So they came to me,” Ivan said. At Marinette’s confused look, he added, “Technically, Akuma Weekly, as Alya calls it, has all the rights and privileges of a student club. I was the first to contact Headmaster Damocles about whether or not we could host it on school grounds. Since we never held a proper election for it, a law of precedence laid down by Max made me the club leader with that action. My position is mostly honorary, but it sometimes means I need to settle decisions like this.”

Marinette steadily made her way to the door as she said, “Oh, well, I’d say go with your gut. They’re your meetings, so you all ultimately have to agree at some point. But, if I may, Adrien is probably the last person to hold a grudge, especially towards Akuma. Not that there’s anything to read into there bye!”

The trio was left largely confused as Marinette dashed out the door, making a beeline for the restrooms. After making sure no one was in the stalls, Marinette locked herself in one, pulling up her small bag.

“Tikki!” She whispered. “We need to talk.”

Tikki’s light voice rang out, “What is it Marinette?”

“I thought you said Akuma victims were okay after the butterfly was purified. Now I hear they need group therapy?”

Tikki pursed her lips, saying, “Well, we do our jobs by purifying the Akuma. We break Hawkmoth’s control. I’m afraid any more than that is up to them.”

Sighing, Marinette said, “That… That can’t be enough.”

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” Tikki said, “it’s all we can do.”

Just then, her response was cut off by a light buzzing from her purse. Checking her phone, she saw an unsaved number, a short message her only clue. Despite this, all she could do was smile, a pleasant warmth bubbling in her chest.

"Good morning, sweetie. =^_^="

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, this is just me setting up something I believe the classmates would make.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.


	14. Of Conversations and Kittens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I graduated with my Associate's!
> 
> Side benefit, I have more time to write this shit!

“Okay, it’s possible that I could have thought that through better.”

Adrien was currently nursing his aching right hand, cradling it to his chest. As soon as his hands had been cut free, he had made the mistake of reaching for his phone, which Jacqueline had so kindly retrieved for him. While she was trying to stop him, Adrien curled his fingers, and immediately regretted it. He had expected a dull ache. He had worried about the comparable burn of a sore muscle. He had assumed the worst he could face was an uncomfortable pressure. The reality was, it felt like a master chef was trying to charbroil his flesh with gasoline. Adrien recoiled as if the air had burned him, and the sudden movement only seemed to aggravate the invisible chef, who proceeded to try and settle the escaping meat with a tenderizer. Eventually, he gave up on his flailing, settling on clutching his forearm to his chest, his hand a limp mass of pulsing nerves.

We take you now to a visual representation of Adrien Agreste’s thoughts during this process. Censored, of course, for the children.

*****ing ********Lorem Ipsum************* Admite` Barium *********** Tragula ************ Hippopotamus ********* Republican ********************** and Daniel Radcliffe ************** With a Bucket of ***************** In a Castle Far Away Where No One Can Here You ************* Soup **************** With a Bucket of *************** Mickey Mouse *************** and A Stick of Dynamite ******* Magical ************ Alakazam!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Agreste, 2016)

In short, trying to text Marinette as soon as physically possible was not the best of ideas.

Jacqueline looked to the other nurse and said, “Jonathan, I believe some painkillers are in order.”

Jonathon made a small show of throwing his hands up in exacerbation, eventually heading to the door to do as asked.

“I was about to say,” Jacqueline started, “you’ll want to take it slow first. Get to closing your fist, and we can talk about texting. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this, but healing is your priority right now. In a bit, we’ll be taking you to a rec room where we’ll show you your hand exercises to build back up your strength. Above whatever usual schedule you have, your therapy takes priority. I’m not certain what all they’ll tell you to do, but if they say five hours of exercise a day, you make five hours. Deal?”

Adrien was having a hard time stringing his thoughts together, his hands clamoring for all of his attention. The pain had thankfully receded to an only somewhat blinding state, so he at least had the wherewithal to nod at her question. Whatever it had been, she was the one in charge here.

With a nod, Jacqueline said, “Good. Now, I assume this is Pigtail Girl’s number here? Based on your rush, I’m guessing you wanted to let her know you’re alright, correct?” At Adrien’s nod, she continued, “Okay, I can understand that. So, how’s this? She just gave you her number, so you shouldn’t have any embarrassing conversations saved, so as long as you keep it PG, I’ll be your hands, deal? I mean, it’s what we do when I feed you. Now we’re just whispering sweet nothings, and I know that. Might even give you some advice.” She finished with a conspiring wink, prepping the phone in front of her.

After a moment, Adrien said, “Yeah. Yeah, that could work. But… Light confession?”

Jacqueline lowered his phone, giving Adrien all of her focus as she said, “Shoot.”

Avoiding her gaze, he said, “Well, I’ve been thinking, and… I have no idea what I’m doing. I mean, Marinette is one of the first friends I’ve ever had, and now she’s my girlfriend? Like, what do I do? What if I mess it up? What if she doesn’t feel the same as me? Would that be my fault? God, what if we break up at this point because I mess it up? We haven’t even gone on our first date! Are we there yet? Is that too fast? I mean, what if–“

Jacqueline interrupted him with a finger on his cheek, letting out a light, “Boop,” before saying, “Adrien. Dude. Hush. I’ve seen the way Pigtails looks at you. That girl is head over heels for you. She’s not about to break up with you over a hypothetical mistake. For now, though, let’s start with texting, and see if we can get to that date, eh?” Adrien nodded, so she brought the phone back up, asking, “Alright, how do I open this thing? 4-digit code, go.”

"The password is 51–16.” _LB–CN._ “From there, the messenger is at the bottom.”

Jacqueline nodded along, taking up the slip of paper to input Marinette’s number. That done, she asked, “So, what do you wanna say?”

“I have no clue,” Adrien confessed.

Somewhat expecting that, Jacqueline let out a drawn out, “Okay, well. She doesn’t have your number, right?” Again, she waited for his nod before saying, “So, it should be something that she would recognize. There’s always the tried and true method of just typing out your name, but that’s more for acquaintances. Is there something personal you’ve shared that she would know is from you?”

_Quite a bit in a cat suit, but I can’t exactly say that._

Eventually, he voiced, “There is one thing. It was the first greeting I gave her after we had officially become a couple. ‘Good morning sweetie.’”

Jacqueline raised her eyebrows appreciatively, saying, “Man, that’s better than mine. First thing I said was, ‘What are you doing with that lemur?’ Not exactly one for the history books.” ignoring his confused look, she said, “Okay, one heartfelt message, coming in hot.”

“Wait!” Adrien said, a thought thankfully slipping in before the message was sent. He said, “Put in the smiling cat emoji. It’s a joke we share.”

Jacqueline merely nodded, saying, “Okay, one mildly comedic heartfelt message, then. And, sent. Was that so bad?”

Looking around, Adrien realized that his world had not, in fact, ended, and said, “Huh. I guess not.”

Immediately, Adrien’s phone buzzed, and Jacqueline read aloud, “’Are you even trying to be subtle? What if someone reads this?’ What?”

Adrien rushed to say, “Please explain the situation. Say something like, funny story, anything.”

Jacqueline shrugged, and typed for a short time.

After a moment, she read again, “’Oh. Whoops. How are you Adrien?’ Seriously, what the hell does the cat mean?”

Adrien tried to distract her by saying, “Say, ‘My hands hurt, but they pale in comparison to how much I miss you.’”

It seemed to work, as she groaned slightly, asking, “Oh, my god, you’re gonna be one of those couples, aren’t you? That is just adorable.” She let out a light squeak at the end, typing away.

 

0o0o0

 

“Is this boy for real?” Marinette said, holding her phone in front of her.

Tikki spoke up from her shoulder, saying, “What? It’s sweet.”

She nodded, saying, “I’ll give you that. But… Oh god. I just gave Chat Noir open access to my phone.”

Tikki said, “Yeah… That’s kinda what happens when you give someone your number,”

Marinette wasn’t even listening, her gaze distant as she whispered, “My god. I can already see the puns. My inbox will never be safe again.”

Rolling her eyes, Tikki said, “Yeah, yeah, the horror. It’s your turn!”

“Oh right,” Marinette said, turning back to her phone. After a moment, she asked, “What should I say?”

After a moment, Tikki asked, “Seriously? You’ve literally been dreaming about this moment for ten hours less than I’ve known you. You used to kiss his picture before bed!”

“You can’t disappoint a picture!” Marinette hissed. Sighing, she asked, “It’s just… What if I say something wrong? What if I blow it? You know how clumsy I am around him. What if what I type here leads us down a slippery slope until Adrien can’t stand me, dumps me, and we never get married? We’d never talk again, never raise hamsters, and our children would never be born! Oh god, I’m killing our hypothetical babies!”

Marinette only stopped because she felt a small nub on her cheek, a light, “Boop,” emanating from Tikki. Marinette turned to see her Kwami smiling gently on her shoulder.

Tapping her cheek lightly, Tikki said, “There, there. Relax, Marinette. It’s just texting. No one’s killing concept babies.” She turned to mutter under her breath, “A phrase I never expected to need to say.” Before continuing, “You’ll be fine. Now, just imagine Adrien said this to you, and type your response.”

Marinette closed her eyes, trying to picture Adrien with her. His soft hair, waving gently in the breeze. His sturdy arms, perfect for a hug she could melt into. His vibrant eyes, shining like all the stars in the heavens. He moved to speak, a ringing bell breaking the silence.

Somehow, Tikki was surprised when Marinette started blushing and hyperventilating.

She rushed to say, “Okay, maybe not Adrien! Try… Try Chat. Picture that he just used that line on you.”

Mournfully saying goodbye to her imaginary Adrien, Marinette tried again, picturing Chat with her. His mangy hair, hanging in front of his eyes. Flexing his arms to boast, at least, what was there to flex. His mischievous eyes, whose glint was only met by the shit-eating grin he wore. He then moved to speak, a mountain of proverbial cheese spilling out.

Marinette rolled her eyes, prepping a comeback.

Noticing the shift, Tikki said, “Okay, that’s good. We’ll work on the disconnect later, but for now, type that.”

Stopping halfway through the message, Marinette asked, “Are you sure?”

“With how long you two have been bantering?’ Tikki said, “He’d love nothing better.”

 

0o0o0

 

Jacqueline read, “She says, ‘Seriously, do you just sit around all day writing out these lines? How do you get anything done? Oh, wait, that’s right.’ Ooh, I like her.”

Adrien laughed at that. Despite the disconnect of a middleman, he was incredibly comforted by the fact that he and Marinette could just talk now. He was reminded of the sparse conversations they’d have on patrols, or the banter they would share in battle. This felt right. This was comfortable.

Going with the first response in his head, Adrien said, “Type, ‘Wow, kicking a man when he’s down? That’s cold, Bugaboo.’”

Adrien caught his wording as soon as it left his mouth. Paling, Adrien looked to see if she noticed, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw she was diligently typing away. If she had recognized the nickname Chat openly used with Ladybug, she wasn’t showing it.

Thankfully, another distraction arrived, when Jonathon finally returned with painkillers in one hand, and a glass of water in the other. He had even added a curly straw for ease.

Jacqueline asked, “What took you so long?”

Slumping in his seat, he replied, “You know how it is. It’s a warzone out there, everyone needs something. Speaking of, Dr. Mallette is looking for you. Something about a manic cat lady?”

With a gasp, Jacqueline said, “Jeannine is here? Oh, I have got to see this.” Standing up, she realized she still had Adrien’s phone, saying, “Oh, crap. Uh, Adrien, do you mind if I head out? Jeannine only comes here whenever she gets a new kitten, she still somehow thinks we’re a vet. Jonathon can take over!”

Throwing his hands up after setting Adrien’s medication to the side, Jonathon said, “Woah, hey, don’t punish the messenger.”

Leaning down, Jacqueline stage-whispered, “He acts like he hates relationship stuff, but he secretly loves it.”

“You know I can hear you, right.” He deadpanned.

Moving to the door, she said, “Yep! Catch.” And proceeded to toss Adrien’s phone into Jonathon’s lap.

He stammered, “But, I don’t, what do I,” but she was already running through the halls. Turning back to Adrien, he eventually said, “Look. I’m not good at this. I’m just gonna, I don’t know, read off what she says, and type what you say. I’m not in a position to give advice, or anything.”

Adrien shrugged, saying, “No worries, that’s pretty much what Jacqueline was doing.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Jonathon said, “Okay, that’s good. Here, before we go any further, take these.”

Jonathon lifted the small paper cup of pills to Adrien’s lips, tipping its contents out. He then replaced the cup with the twisted straw. Adrien gladly drank, letting the medicine begin its work. It was probably all in his head, but he could have sworn they started helping immediately.

Setting the empty cups to the side, Jonathon said, “Alright, those should take effect in a bit. When that happens, you’ll probably either get really loopy, or really tired, so we should get what texting we can out of the way now.” Checking Adrien’s phone, Jonathon saw that Jacqueline had left it open, so he saw the latest text from Adrien and said, “Wait. Bugaboo? Oh, Adrien, we have got to workshop a better nickname than that. This your classmate?”

With a raised eyebrow, Adrien nodded, saying, “Yeah, Marinette Dupain-Chang, why?”

Raising his eyebrows in disbelief, Jonathon asked, “Dupain-Chang? Tom and Sabine’s kid?” At Adrien’s nod, Jonathon explained, “I go there for my lunch break whenever I can. Baker’s daughter, eh?” For a moment, Jonathon tapped his chin. Eventually, he snapped his fingers, saying, “Honey Bun. How’s that?”

Adrien felt rather confused at receiving what was sounding like advice, but knew well enough not to mention it. At this point, he’d take anything he could get. At least now he won’t have to risk Jacqueline noticing his mistake.

Meanwhile, down the hall, Jacqueline was biting her nails. Upon hearing that Jeannine had been turned away right after Dr. Mallette had called for her, Jacqueline had been left alone with her thoughts, which was rarely a good sign. Usually, she would spend that time pondering on what she should have for lunch that day, or revisiting the age-old question, “Seriously, what was that girl doing with a lemur?” Today though, she was focused on a much more recent dilemma.

_Bugaboo… Where have I heard that before?_

 

0o0o0

 

Marinette banged her head against the wall, enunciating her words as she practically yelled, “We’re! Supposed! To be! Discreet!”

“Um… Are you okay?” Asked a light voice from the bathroom door. If Marinette was right, it was Rose.

Flailing slightly to right herself, Marinette said, slightly louder than intended, “Yeah, I’m fine! Just, uh… Test stress?”

After a pause, Rose said, “… Okay, um… Hang in there!”

Marinette only breathed again when she heard the door close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, I had intended Jacqueline to basically be J.D. from Scrubs. I have no idea where Phoebe from Friends came from.
> 
> Well, no, it came from, "Hey, that'd be fun. Hey, that'd be fun. Hey, that'd b-"
> 
> Sidebar: I just made a reference from 2007 in 2016 in a fic with themes loosely taken from a 2003 Jack Black film. What even is this?


	15. The More Things Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time shenanigans ensue. Because this fic almost looked like it'd have Mr. Duval again.

Just as Jonathon said it would, Adrien’s medication quickly made him incredibly incapacitated, so the texting ended with Jonathon typing, “Well, Adrien just spent the last three minutes slurring your name and calling you a lady, so we’re putting him to bed now. Have a good day at school, and say hi to your parents for me!”

Eventually, Adrien woke up to find his arms bathed and bandaged, a light cloth covering his forearms. Expecting the pain this time, Adrien tried to close his fist again. With a wince, he managed to touch his thumb to his fingertips, but couldn’t push further than that. Still, he needed some sign of progress to start the day, or evening, in this case, so he placed his elbows on the bed to sit up. Thankfully, his bed was still functioning as a recliner, so it wasn’t that far before Adrien was able to stretch out his back, popping parts of it along the way. Yet, even that grew to be a bit much with the pain in his sides, so he eventually slumped back onto his pillows. Seeing his phone at his side, Adrien smiled in content. True, the bed was getting old, the scenery was nothing new, but mere inches away was a direct line to the woman he loved. Tonight was going to be good.

Reaching to the table with both hands, Adrien awkwardly mushed his phone between his palms, bringing it over onto his bed. He then worked it into his right palm, the screen facing him. Hoping it wouldn’t hurt too badly, Adrien brought his phone up to his face, and pushed the home button with his nose. Surprisingly, his hand didn’t hurt, but his eyes did, as he hadn’t prepared at all for the sudden burst of light. After reeling for a moment, he began navigating his phone with his nose, bringing up Marinette’s conversation. Apparently, Jacqueline had made her a contact on his phone, as her name was followed by several heart emojis. Prepping his idea, Adrien began his cunning plan to text Marinette without prying eyes.

 

0o0o0

 

**Hey! Sorry I fell asleep on you. Also sorry for the whole Bugle Boy thing.**

**Hug a poo**

**Pug a loon**

**Speech to text is hard.**

 

0o0o0

 

Tom and Sabine were jolted awake by a loud crash from upstairs. In their haste to see what was wrong, they almost missed the muffled laughter seeping through their daughter’s trap door. Sharing a sigh, they returned to their movie, cuddling on the couch.

 

0o0o0

 

**Are you awake?**

_Yeah, sorry, that was just too rich._

**I’m glad you laugh at my pain.**

_Oh please, you’re no stranger to getting laughed at Kitty._

0o0o0 

Her last message hung heavy in her hand, the moments ticking by torturously slow. She’d toyed with the nickname while they were in costume, but she honestly hadn’t expected to use it in this context. Wait, did she just insult him? Oh no, was that too much? What the hell was he thinking? 

Meanwhile, Adrien was hiding his face behind his hands, a furious blush across his face. He suddenly had a barely controllable urge to roll around in glee. Instead, he finally looked back to his phone, realizing he hadn’t said anything in response. Weighing his options, he eventually shrugged, figuring if he couldn’t go home yet, he could at least go big. 

0o0o0 

**Can you come see me? This room is getting old without you.**

0o0o0 

Two minutes later, Adrien heard a lovingly familiar whine, his window opening with a gust of night air. There, perched on an oh-so-convenient ledge, was Ladybug, bearing the warmest smile Adrien had ever had the pleasure of seeing. 

0o0o0 

Elsewhere, a dejected clockmaker sat alone in his workshop, moonlight filtering in from the skylights above. At his bench, he held an empty bottle of wine in one hand, and his favorite wristwatch in the other. Scant hours ago, he had tried to have his favorite movie star sign it, only to be ignored. Even now, his chiseled features mocked the clockmaker from the poster above his table. Who did that guy think he was, ignoring his fans like that? Where was the justice in denying a simple autograph to someone who had memorized every line of his films? If he couldn’t be considerate to those who adore him, what right did he have to be the star! 

“My thoughts exactly, Tockinator. Why should this travesty be allowed to continue? Why, if you were the star, you would always make time for your fans. Now, you can be that star. All I ask in return are two small pieces of jewelry. Up to the task?” 

Sliding his sunglasses into place, Tockinator said, “Affirmative, Hawkmoth.” 

With a simple twist of his watch’s face, he was enveloped in a sphere of blue energy, lightning crackling around him. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the energy dissipated, and the Tockinator realized he would need to be close to a proper power source. Moving outside, he placed his hand on his building’s main powerline, absorbing its energy to travel exactly 3 hours, 2 minutes, and 33 seconds into the past. 

Ignoring the cries of security around him, Tockinator monotonously yelled, “Sign the watch, now.” 

0o0o0 

Ladybug stepped down from the window, Adrien seeing nothing but the embodiment of grace. Especially when her ankle caught on the frame, causing her to tip forward and almost land on her face. Adrien brought his hand up to stifle his laughter, a faint cough escaping. She straightened up, preparing a regal bow to emphasize her mistake, but stopped short when she saw the bandages on his arms. 

Moving to his side, Ladybug asked, “Are you okay? I’m glad to see you out of those casts.” 

Adrien nodded, saying, “Yeah, I’m okay. There’s a pretty constant ache, but they have some _great_ medicine here, it feels like I’m on Jupiter most of the time.” He chuckled, continuing, “But they wear off after a while. Wanna hear the worst part?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I really need to pop my knuckles.” 

She laughed at that, taking the seat to his left. After a second, she nervously moved her hand forward, reaching for his on the sheets. After silently checking several times, Ladybug gingerly placed her hand over Adrien’s, careful not to push too hard. With how intensely she was watching his left hand for any twitch of discomfort, she didn’t see Adrien’s right rising to meet her cheek. Ladybug barely had time to act before Adrien turned her head, bringing her in closer. With a slight raise of his back, Adrien fulfilled every dream he could hope for, kissing the love of his life, and his best friend. After a brief moment, Ladybug closed her eyes with a hum, relishing in this private intimacy. 

Mournfully breaking away, Ladybug lazily blinked twice before whispering, “Wow.” 

Adrien fell back on his pillows, chuckling as he said, “You say that every time.” 

Catching on, she said, “And I will as long as you let me.” 

0o0o0 

Unnoticed to both of them, a male nurse finally broke through his stupor at Adrien’s room window. Jonathon had just clocked out for the evening, and wanted to check in on Adrien on his way out. Instead, he began running to the main doors of the hospital, texting as he went. 

_**Jacqueline, meet me at the pub. I know who Bugaboo is, and we’re gonna need some drinks.** _

0o0o0 

“So,” Ladybug said, picking up the TV remote, “wanna see what’s on?” 

He nodded, saying, “Yeah. Actually, I wanted to see if that show was back on, L’abeille Dansante?” 

Relieved, Ladybug said, “Oh thank god, I thought it was just me. Is it weird that I’ve almost been craving to watch it again? It seems… So familiar.” 

Flipping through channels, the pair was blissfully unaware of the cackling Kwami in Adrien’s cabinet. However, as they went, they found that every channel was some form of emergency broadcast, showing various helicopter views of a man in a dark trench coat. Every so often, he would pose menacingly for the cameras, a pump-action shotgun held over his shoulders. They could see that he wore all black, his hair a tight crewcut. He wore dark shades at all times, but every now and again, a camera would catch the right angle, and show that his eyes were a glaring red. Destruction lay in his wake, serving as a backdrop for his march through the city. The audio was choppy at best, but certain cries of helicopters, androids, and something about a net in the sky could be heard from the man. 

“Akuma.” 

The pair looked to each other, smiling before speaking in unison, “Jinx. Jinx. Double-jinx. Stop it! Kwami. Miraculous. Copycat. Antibug. This is getting weird.” 

Eventually, Ladybug held her hands up to stem the tide, saying, “Alya’s probably already there. I should go.” After standing, she added, “You should probably stay here though. Wouldn’t want you ripping a stitch.” 

Adrien pushed off his blankets, saying, “No, I can help. I may be hurt, but I’m still Chat Noir. This is my fight too.” 

Ladybug knelt to his level before saying, “Adrien, I know you’re strong, but you could seriously hurt yourself out there. You need to be resting now. Your fight is here.” 

Adrien winced at another fireball shown on the television, and suddenly remembered Plagg’s warning, saying, “No, you need me. If I’m not–” 

Ladybug cut him off, saying, “What? Discount Michael Bay there? Please, I’ve handled worse. Don’t worry, Adrien, I’ll be right back after.” 

Adrien reached out, yelling, “No, don’t!” But she was already zipping through the city. 

Moving to the edge of his bed, Adrien called, “Plagg, get in here!” 

Plagg floated through the air, saying, “You should listen to her, you know. That was such a pleasant dream you woke me from.” 

With a roll of his eyes, Adrien said, “There’s no time for that. Plagg, transform me!” 

After a final grumble, Plagg zipped into Adrien’s ring, his body dissipating to power the ancient artifact. In a flash of green light, Chat Noir felt a rush of adrenaline, suddenly hyperaware of everything in his room. Immediately, his heightened nose was assaulted by the harsh stench of disinfectant, making him cringe for a moment. The steady beeping of several monitors around the building perked his feline ears, each clamoring for his attention. It was strange to get used to at first, but the visually fake ears did offer a significant edge in combat, and Adrien often missed all the details he could hear as Chat Noir. What he did not miss, however, was the enhanced vision. Sure, he could stroll through a lightless alleyway on the darkest nights of December, but night vision was not designed for phosphorescent lights. After blinking away from the lights for a moment, Chat turned his attention to the true test of his usability that night, and looked to his hands. Taking a steady breath, Chat began to close his fists, expecting the worst. He let out a sigh of relief when he felt no pain, realizing that was far from the case. 

_Note to self: Give Plagg extra Camember at next opportunity. Being Chat always dulls some pain, but it looks like he pulled out all the stops this tme. Regardless, Miraculous Cure should put me back to before I became Chat, so long as I stick with Ladybug. Right. Ladybug. Who is currently running at the Akuma as fast as she can._

Wasting no more time, Chat Noir bounded to the window, barely registering the fact that his leg was painless as well. Unlatching his baton, he felt the familiar rush of air around him as he vaulted into the air, landing on a near rooftop. He heard a distant explosion, a dull roar near the heart of the city, and figured that was the way to go. 

0o0o0 

When Chat Noir caught up with Ladybug, she had already engaged the Akuma, and was currently dodging shotgun blasts, trying to find where the butterfly might be. Without turning his attention from Ladybug, Tockinator turned his aim to shoot at Chat Noir, who yelped and dodged behind an overturned car. During a somersault, Ladybug noticed Chat Noir, her brow furrowing in concern. He made a motion to pay attention to the Akuma, but she was adamant to talk with him, so when she started making a way to his cover, he didn’t object. 

Landing beside him, Ladybug yelled, “What the hell are you doing here? You’re in no position to be out here!” 

Chat said, “Wow, missed you too.” 

She looked at him flatly, saying, “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah, I do,” he replied. Pointing to the destruction behind them, he continued, “I wouldn’t be out here if not for all of that. Plagg told me that Miraculous Cure wouldn’t work unless I was here, so all of this would be permanent. He said that he breaks the Lucky Charm, and Tikki takes it from there.” 

“So…” Ladybug began connecting the dots, saying, “The reason you’re still healing is that Plagg couldn’t break the Lucky Charm as well last time? What changed?” 

Chat said, “You catch on faster than I did. Short answer, me. I’ll explain it better later. For now, though, we need to handle this Akuma. Any idea where it is?” 

As if on cue, Tockinator yelled, “You cannot stop the Tockinator, Ladybug and Chat Noir! Give up now, or I will find a time when you will!” 

After peeking to catch another view of Tockinator, she said, “Smart money’s on the watch.” 

Meanwhile, Chat was asking, “Seriously, what is that accent? And does he know there’s supposed to be inflection to that? Honestly, he could be threatening us or selling us the blandest lemonade ever, there’s literally no difference. I mean, come on, Tockinator? Hawkmoth needs to find better vill–” 

He only stopped because Ladybug said, “Chat! Focus. Watch. Distract.” 

Shaking his head, Chat said, "Right, no worries. You take the lead." 

With that, Ladybug leapt from their perch, zipping up to a surrounding rooftop. Taking a more direct approach, Chat Noir jumped up from behind the car, weaving a path towards the Akuma. It worked like a charm, Tockinator turning his fire towards Chat. Bringing up his staff, Chat shielded himself from the brunt of the blasts, projectiles ricocheting around him. Ladybug had a plan, as she always did, but hadn't anticipated a rathor major wrench to be thrown into it. It appeared that Tockinator did not need to reload. Scrapping her plan to grab his wrist when he stopped firing, Ladybug started working on a way to remove the weapon altogether. 

When she came up with a blank, she threw her yo-yo into the air, shouting, "Lucky charm!" 

With a dazzling display of lights, Ladybug latched her yo-yo around her waist in time to catch the Lucky Charm, looking forward to the first piece to fix this puzzle. However, whatever she had been expecting, jumper cables was not it. In a surprisingly familiar fashion, Ladybug was immediately at a loss as to what to do. So, she started looking at her options. 

The jumper cables, the seemingly endless gun, its metal grip, and the power station Tockinator was moving towards. 

_That'll work._

Cupping her hands around her mouth, Ladybug called out, "Chat, back off!" 

Chat shot her a confused look, but ultimately let her call the shots as he ducked into an alley. Tockinator cocked his head, taking in the circumstances. Ladybug and Chat Noir had backed off, and his original goal still lay behind him. Eventually, he decided to press on, moving towards the power station. His three hour jump had taken relatively little power in the grand scheme of things, but his newest plan would require a good deal more. So, holding his shotgun at the ready, Tockinator returned to his advance on the industrial generators that powered a majority of the city. Meanwhile, Ladybug met up with Chat, who was looking very confused. 

He asked, "Seriously, what's the plan here? Normally, we try to to stop them from getting what they want." 

Ladybug answered, "Don't worry, I have a plan. When he drops his gun, go for his watch." 

"When he drops-Wait, what? Why would he-" 

His shoulders slumped when he saw that Ladybug was already swinging away, putting her plan in motion. Shrugging, he opted to follow Tockinator from a distance, keeping an eye out for the time to strike. For her part, Ladybug found herself ducking around generators and columns, making sure the Akuma didn't see her approach. As he neared the station, she prepped the cables, latching one side to a substantial looking generator. Making certain to keep the other end separated, Ladybug waited until Tockinator had passed her hiding spot before leaping into the air. Thankful for the slack in the cord, Ladybug latched the positive end onto the grip of Tockinator's gun, the negative already grounded to a handrail by the generator. Immediately, the Akuma seized up, shaking slightly. 

Unknown to her, Tockinator's view began blaring warning signs, diagnosing the damage as electric shock. Thankfully, he had countermeasures for this, and immediately removed the offending object. That is to say, Tockinator threw his gun away as hard as he could. Which, being an Akuma, was rather far, the jumper cables trailing behind the shotgun as it soared through the air. 

Taking advantage of his outstretched arm, Chat pounced from the shadows, latching onto Tockinator. While he struggled to undo the watch's clasp, Chat was struck by how physically large this Akuma was, as he could literally wrap himself around Tockinator's arm. The Akuma then calmly brought his arm to his face, looking Chat in the eye as he began trying to shake him off. Chat was jostled rather severely by this, and almost lost his grip on Tockinator's wrist. In an attempt to strengthen his hold, Chat's thumb caught the face of Tockinator's watch, spinning the outer ring freely. With their central position in the power plant, the ambient energy was enough for pretty much any jump Tockinator could want to make. 

As the sphere of energy began enveloping the three of them, Tockinator said, "Oh no." 

0o0o0 

Ladybug and Chat Noir woke up to a brilliant blue sky, the sun beaming down on them. They were laying in a lush park, trees and flowers all around. As they sat up, they marvelled at how soft the grass was, thinking they were perhaps in a dream, until they realized they weren't alone. Ahead of them, a man and woman were lounging on a large blanket, a picnic laid out around them. They were both in the mid-thirties, and shared two things; a confused expression at the spontaneous children in front of them, and a plain gold band on their left hand. The woman wore a polka dot sundress, her deep black hair held in a tight bun. The man had a blond ponytail, and wore a button down shirt tucked into his slacks, a tie and jacket laid out beside him. His business casual look was contrasted rather harshly by a red bandaid on his right eyebrow with black spots. They turned to each other, their confusion slowly bleeding into joy as they began talking over themselves. 

"Is that today?" 

"That's today! Told you today was perfect for a picnic." 

"I knew that cut looked familiar!" 

"Oh my god!" They screamed in unison. 

Ladybug and Chat Noir were rightfully perplexed, and proceeded to voice their confusion in the utmost of detail, as to incite further explanation. 

"Bwuh?" 

The blond man turned to the pair, and in a deep voice said, "Finally. We have waited for this moment for quite some time. Now, we shall engage in glorious combat! To settle thi-" His facade quickly broke, a light snicker from his wife sending him into a fit of giggles. After catching his breath, he continued, "Wow, I literally cannot say that with a straight face can I? We're you!" 

It took Ladybug and Chat Noir a moment to grasp the extant of those two words. To connect the dots, they each slowly started pointing fingers at each other, before pointing at the couple before them. A couple who seemed perfectly fine on waiting for these oblivious children to finally get it. Eventually, even they had to grasp the truth staring them in the face, and proceeded to test the stretch limits of their masks, as their eyebrows shot up in realization. 

Marinette nodded, saying, "There it is." When Ladybug and Chat Noir opened their mouths to let out a torrent of questions, she held up a hand saying, "Now, I know you have questions, just like we did. But, I think it would be best if you went with Adrien, Chat. Ladybug and I need to talk." 

Adrien nodded, reaching behind himself to grab an ornate cane, steadying himself on it as he stood up. Its main shaft appeared to be a solid black crystal, veins of emerald branching throughout. The head of the cane was a polished steel, capped on the front end with a green paw print. Chat was suddenly incredibly curious why Adrien was so brazen with now two items that were obviously based off of their secret alter egos. So, without a word, he rose to walk with Adrien, noticing with some pride that he had a growth spurt to look forward to. 

Marinette watched them leave earshot before she patted the empty spot beside her, saying, "Come here, sit with me." When Ladybug had repositioned, she continued, "As I said, I know you have questions. The same way I know you've made a lot of assumptions based on this," She then raised her left hand, continuing, "And don't worry, yes, we're married. But it wasn't easy. I know you see the stars in that boy's eyes, but you need to remember that those feelings can fade over time. So, don't be discouraged if one day you just see a green iris there. But, with hard work, and compassion from both sides, the stars can be found again. Now, By the way you're craning your neck, I can tell you have a question." 

Ladybug was focused on Marinette's earrings, so it took her a second to ask, "... Where's Tikki?" 

0o0o0 

As they walked, Adrien said, "Okay, I know what you're gonna ask, mostly because I wanted to ask the same things, but trust me, this will go a lot faster if you just let me finish, alright? First off, no, this cane is not because of what you're going through. Sure, Cure messed up there, but it's basically just a break, you'll be fine. Second, no, I can't tell you how things go with Dad. You have to forge that path yourself. What I can give is some vague advice, though. Follow your heart, Adrien. Let the people you trust in, and take their advice. It's going to be hard, but learn to let yourself love. Others, and yourself. Now, ask it." 

"Ask what, exactly?" 

With a smile, he said, "The question that's been eating you since you got here." 

"... Where's Plagg?" 

Adrien sighed, before he said, "I can't tell you exactly what happens," 

0o0o0 

"Time is finicky like that," Marinette said to Ladybug, continuing, "But I can tell you that," 

0o0o0 

"While I miss him dearly," 

0o0o0 

"I would never change what I did," 

0o0o0 

"Because it was to protect the one we love most in this world." 

Just then, Ladybug and Chat Noir turned to each other, meeting eyes across the way. Marinette then motioned for them to stand, and they started walking over to the other pair. 

"Daddy, who's this?" 

Chat looked down to find a young child moving towards Adrien, her blonde hair pulled back in pigtails. She wore a yellow shirt under baggy overalls, pink sneakers squeaking from a hidden pocket. 

"Oh, Emma!" Adrien said, lifting the child into his arms. He continued, saying, "This is a good friend of mine, Chat Noir. He's not here for long, but he saved your daddy's life more times than I can count. Say hi." 

Emma reached out from her perch, rubbing Chat's fake ears as she wistfully said, "Kitty." 

Chat held out uncertain arms, and uttered, in such reverence it might have been a prayer, “M-may I?” 

Marinette walked up, saying “As adorable as that would be, I’m afraid we don’t have time. You’ll find the Tockinator in that alley in about… 45 seconds. That’s your ride home.” When both Ladybug and Chat Noir were reluctant to leave, Marinette put on her best Mom Voice™, commanding, “Go! Now!” 

As they ran off, Marinette sighed, saying, “Remember when life was that simple?” 

“Good times, good times.” 

“Oh wow, when did it get so late?” Cupping her hands to her mouth, Marinette called, “Chloe, Louis, it’s time to head home!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, but it took me a bit to figure out how to introduce these scenes. I hope the transition of Marinette and Adrien giving the same explanation is clear, and if anyone has advice on that, please let me know.
> 
> As always, thank you for sticking with this, and don't worry. The band's back next time.*
> 
> *Maybe if I promise it, it'll happen.


End file.
